


Night Before/Morning After

by angstytimelord



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Insomnia, M/M, Virginity, Will doesn't know what to think, angsty will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2015-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-17 19:12:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 26,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/871033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstytimelord/pseuds/angstytimelord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will discovers that a wonderful night can lead to an uncertain morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. We Might As Well Be Strangers

Will rolled over onto his side, snuggling into the soft pillow under his cheek. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't in his own bed at home, with the sounds of the dogs shuffling around the house, and that this wasn't the pillow he was used to waking up on.

For just a moment, panic swept through him. Where was he? Why wasn't he at home? Had he lost time again? And why was he in a strange bed?

It took him a few seconds to remember where he was -- in Hannibal's house, in Hannibal's bed. They had spent the night together. Will's face flamed with the memory of all that they'd done last night; it all came back to him in a rush, everything that had happened during the darkened hours.

It had been the best night of his life.

He wanted to repeat it immediately, if not sooner. He wanted Hannibal inside him again, wanted those cool hands on his body, those warm lips on his. He wanted the other man to completely dominate him, body and soul, just as he had all during the night.

But somehow, he knew that wasn't going to happen. The fact that Hannibal wasn't still here in bed with him told him that, loudly and clearly.

He had the feeling that he was going to get dressed and go downstairs, see Hannibal either in the kitchen for breakfast or in his office, and that they would exchange polite "good mornings" as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them last night.

It had probably been a one-time thing for Hannibal, simply an experiment. Will couldn't imagine that this suave, debonair man who could more than likely have anyone he wanted would actually want _him_ , as broken and damaged as he was.

No, last night had been the one and only time he would know Hannibal's touch, the one time they would be intimate. He couldn't let himself believe that it would ever happen again. This morning, instead of being lovers, they might as well be strangers.

It was a horribly depressing thought.

He didn't want that kind of a relationship with Hannibal. He didn't want to back off and forget what they'd done with each other last night. He didn't want them to go back to having that polite, friendly, but slightly wary kind of relationship they'd had before the ice had been broken.

He'd given his virginity to Hannibal last night; it had been the first time he'd even considered being that intimate with anyone. He had never gone beyond a little kissing and groping before -- and Hannibal was the first man he'd ever thought about having sex with.

It still didn't seem real; it almost felt like last night had been a dream, disappearing into ephemeral memory this morning with the coming of the dawn. But it hadn't been a dream, Will told himself. IT had been real. It had to be. If it wasn't, then he wouldn't have awakened in Hannibal's bed.

Besides, his body bore the obvious marks of their intimacy. He couldn't deny that Hannibal had relieved him of his virginity last night. 

Not when his body was still so deliciously sore.

It hadn't hurt as much as he'd thought it would. It had at first, but the pain had quickly morphed into pleasure, a pleasure that he hadn't wanted to stop. He had wanted it to go on and on, until he expired from it. He'd wanted to overdose on that pleasure, to lose himself in it.

But it _had_ ended, all too soon, and Hannibal had left one last burning kiss upon his lips, then rolled over and gone to sleep. At least, Will thought that was what he had done; he'd been too dazed by what he'd just experienced to really know what had happened after that.

He must have fallen asleep at some point -- and now, he'd awakened alone. There were no signs of activity in the bedroom; maybe Hannibal hadn't gotten dressed in here.

He was probably downstairs in the kitchen now, making breakfast as though it was an ordinary day, as though there wasn't a man upstairs in his bed, as though he wouldn't have company for breakfast. Maybe he wasn't expecting that. Will didn't know what to think.

Maybe Hannibal thought that he would simply leave, get dressed and go to work without a word. But he wasn't going to do that -- for one thing, it would be rude, and for another, he needed to talk to the man who'd become his lover last night.

He couldn't just walk out and pretend that nothing had happened.

If Hannibal expected that, then he didn't know the man he'd taken to bed at all. And whose fault was that? Will asked himself with a sigh. He had never been good at letting people get close, Hannibal included. Even in all of those psychiatric sessions, he'd never really opened up.

Not until last night -- and then, he'd opened up in a very different way. A way that he'd never expected to do. It had probably shocked Hannibal as well.

But it was done now, and there was no turning back. Talking to Hannibal this morning might be awkward, but it had to be done .And even though Will felt as if they might as well be strangers now, he was still determined to get this awkwardness out of the way.

This wasn't going to be easy, but then, opening up to anyone, even the man who was now his lover, never was. Not for him. Letting anyone into his life had never been an easy decision for him to make, but he'd gone too far with Hannibal to turn back now.

Hannibal was already in his life, for better or for worse. There was no denying that fact. Though if Hannibal chose to act as though last night had never happened, Will would go along with his decision. He really didn't see where he had any choice in the matter.

He hoped that wouldn't happen. He didn't want to face rejection.

He wanted the two of them to get even closer, to be lovers in every sense of the word -- though with his own intimacy problems, and with Hannibal's reticence, he knew that wouldn't be easy. But Will couldn't help feeling that they both owed it to themselves to try.

They might feel like strangers now, but they could get the intimacy of last night back. He was sure of it. They just had to reach out and be prepared to meet each other halfway.

Sighing again, he sat up, pushing the covers back and running a hand through his hair. He was going to take a shower, get dressed, and go down to the kitchen to talk with Hannibal. He could only hope that their talk would go in the direction he wanted them to take.


	2. Color Within the Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is reluctant to talk with Hannibal about whether or not they have a future.

Will walked slowly down the steps, hesitating more and more as he approached the bottom. Once he got there, then he would have to go into the kitchen, and he still didn't know what to say to Hannibal. He couldn't see a way around the awkwardness that was sure to follow.

What was he going to say? It wasn't as though he was good at bringing up the subject of sex or relationships, and this involved both.

He had no idea what Hannibal was going to say or do; that was one of the most disconcerting things about his lover. Hannibal always seemed to wear a mask that there was no seeing behind; he only removed it once in a while. The rest of the time, it was firmly in place.

Will desperately needed to see behind that mask. He needed it to be ripped off entirely, for Hannibal to lay his feelings and his desires bare. Those desires had been in plain view last night, but Will didn't doubt that they would be hidden again this morning.

Hannibal wasn't the kind of man who let his inner feelings show.

Usually, he wasn't either, Will thought with a soft sigh, taking another step closer to the bottom of the long staircase. But for once, he wanted to let his feelings out. He wanted to make them plain -- even simple, if that was possible, though emotions were never simple for him.

He wanted to know where they were going, if they had a future. If they didn't, then there was really no need in taking this any further.

He had to make that clear to Hannibal, that he wasn't going to stick around unless he had some kind of assurance that the two of them were .... what? Dating? A couple? They were already lovers in the physical sense; what more did he need?

As long as he had some kind of assurance from Hannibal that last night hadn't only been a one-night stand, then everything would be all right. He just needed to know that he wasn't some kind of toy for Hannibal, a plaything to be used once and then tossed away.

He'd reached the bottom of the stairs now; slowly, Will turned nad headed for the kitchen, his feet dragging. He didn't really want to confront Hannibal, but he knew that he had no choice. He had to get answers, and he had to have them as soon as possible.

Hannibal was, as he thought, in the kitchen, cooking breakfast.

Will stopped and stared at the man who had become his lover last night, unable to tear his eyes from what he saw. Hannibal was the most graceful man he had ever seen.

Why would a man like this want _him_? Will asked himself for what felt like the hundredth time. The man in front of him exuded confidence and capability; Hannibal didn't need someone who was uncomfortable and awkward in their own body.

What had brought them together? Was it mere desire, to be assuaged after one night and written off as no more than a bit of fun and games? Or was it something more, a bond that they'd forged, something within them both that called to each other?

Whatever it was, he was feeling it now. All he wanted to do was take a few steps forward until he was right in front of Hannibal -- and then be swept into the other man's arms, Hannibal's hands on his body, those lips on his, surrendering himself to desire.

Hannibal was so close -- yet he suddenly seemed unbearably far away.

Without realizing that he was doing so, Will took one step forward into the kitchen, then another. Hannibal hadn't seen him yet, but in just a moment he would turn around and ....

"Good morning, Will." Hannibal spoke without turning around; apparently, he had known that Will was there even before he'd taken those tentative steps forward. "I hope you like bacon and eggs. That is what I usually have for breakfast, and I didn't particularly want to change my routine."

"That sounds great," Will murmured. He didn't know what else to say. He usually at standing up at his kitchen counter; breakfast was generally either a bowl of cereal, or, if he felt really adventurous and hadn't gotten up late, he'd actually make toast.

He wasn't used to sitting down at the kitchen table with a man who had just taken his virginity the night before. He felt more awkward than he'd expected to, but apparently, Hannibal didn't feel the same way, judging from the smile on his face when he finally turned around.

That smile told him that he was more than just a one-night stand. He had to be. Hannibal couldn't look at him with that kind of hunger, that kind of _desire_ , and not intend to be with him again.

The look on his lover's face made Will's knees go weak; he wanted Hannibal to throw him down on the floor, or the table, or wherever he wanted, and have him again. He didn't care if it wouldn't be comfortable; right now, all he wanted was Hannibal inside him again.

He took a deep breath, forcing his thoughts back into some semblance of sanity.

Of course that wasn't going to happen; Hannibal wasn't the kind of man who did things like that on the spur of the moment. The next time they were together -- which Will hoped wouldn't be long -- they would be in bed again, where they would both be comfortable.

Still, he wouldn't mind finding out just what Hannibal would do if the opportunity for something more .... well, _unconventional_ presented itself. The idea of being taken on the couch in the office, or on the carpet, of hell, even on the table in the kitchen, somehow seemed incredibly appealing.

Would Hannibal do something like that? Or would be say that there was a time and a place for everything, and that he preferred to color within the lines?

No, he wouldn't, Will decided, studying the other man as Hannibal expertly scrambled the eggs and turned the bacon over in the frying pan. Hannibal wasn't the kind of man who bowed to convention; it was one of the things about him that Will found so exciting.

If only Hannibal would take him upstairs now and forget about breakfast ....

Will's stomach rumbled loudly, putting the lie to that thought. His eyes widened as Hannibal turned around, his brows raised, that slight smile still curving his lips. Will wanted nothing more than to stand up, walk the few steps that separated them, and kiss Hannibal.

But he didn't. He stayed right where he was, offering the other man an apologetic smile. "I think my stomach just betrayed me, didn't it?"

"Just as your body did last night," Hannibal murmured, the words making a blush rise to Will's cheeks. He hadn't realized that his desire, his _need_ for Hannibal, had been so obvious. But it was obvious that he couldn't keep anything hidden from this man.

Being here in the kitchen with Hannibal felt so .... _intimate_ , almost as intimate as they'd been last night, when there were no physical barriers between them. There was a new layer to their relationship, one that Will found intriguing.

Their intimacy would only grow from here, Will told himself, a feeling of contentment sweeping over him. The ice had been broken. There was nowhere to go but forward.

Suddenly, nothing about this new relationship felt awkward at all.


	3. Man Behind the Mask

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is the only person who's ever managed to see behind the mask that Will has always hidden behind.

Will shook his head as though to clear it as he walked slowly from the Federal Building where he'd spent the last part of the day out to his car in the parking lot. He felt wilted; it had been a particularly hard day, and he'd been working on a case that he wanted to see the last of.

That wouldn't happen until they caught this killer -- and this was a vicious one. Four headless corpses so far; a mix of men and women, as well as different ages. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the killings; they were just horribly violent expressions of anger.

He hated seeing things like that, but it was his job.

There was no way he could get away from it. He had to slip oh that mask of impassiveness, and pretend that getting into this killer's mind didn't get to him.

But the truth was, it _always_ got to him. Sometimes that mask was hard to wear; there were times when he wanted nothing more than to strip off that mask and toss it aside, to let the people he worked with see just how horrified he was by what he saw.

Sometimes, he was even horrified by what he himself did, even though he knew that it helped to catch the killers who committed these grisly murders. He hated knowing that he was looked at as some kind of freak, as a person who stood beyond the pale.

No one really knew him -- or wanted to know him. They didn't care about whoever the man behind the mask might be; it was easier for them to see him as the freak of nature, as the person who could be brought out and used to further their investigation, and then put away again.

He made people uncomfortable. He'd always known that. Hell, sometimes he made _himself_ more than a little uncomfortable with his uncanny ability.

But the people he worked with didn't have to live with that discomfort. He did.

No one really cared about the man who existed behind the mask. They might _say_ they did; they might even reach out a comforting hand to him once in a while. But they didn't really want to know him; they wanted to keep him at a safe distance from their lives.

Will supposed he couldn't blame them; he wasn't an easy person to know. He'd learned from a very young age that it was always easier to close himself off than to let people in, and as he'd grown older, he'd learned how to adjust that outward mask accordingly.

Now, he was so good at being the man behind the mask, at keeping everyone around him at arm's length, that it was second nature to do so. He didn't even blink when someone new came into his orbit; they were filed away automatically into a neutral gray area.

Hannibal was the only person who had ever managed to look behind that mask for more than a few seconds -- and he was the only person who had ever wanted to continue looking. For that alone, Will felt drawn to him, more than he'd ever been to anyone.

And because of Hannibal's willingness to remove the mask and see what lay beneath it, Will was willing to let him look, to see all of the imperfections clearly written there.

No one else had ever cared enough to look. No one else had ever dared to see.

But Hannibal was different. Hannibal had not only cared enough to see behind the mask, but he had made Will feel as though those imperfections were perhaps not so bad after all, that they didn't mark him as someone who would never fit in with society.

Hannibal made him feel as though he was just as worthy as everyone else, not as though he was something that shouldn't be brought to light, something that should be used and then hidden, only showing itself when it was needed, and then crawling back behind the mask again.

His life had changed so much since he had met the man who was now his lover; and after last night, his life felt as though it had completely turned a corner, leaving everything he'd known before far behind. He wasn't a man alone any more. He had someone in his life.

Even if that someone _did_ sometimes make him feel as though he was being carefully watched and kept in a cage, studied as though he was some kind of ....specimen.

No, Hannibal didn't see him in that light, Will told himself firmly. If that was all his lover thought of him, then they wouldn't be lovers. He would simply be a patient, someone who Hannibal talked to, someone whose mask he kept unsuccessfully trying to pull aside.

Hannibal actually _cared_ about the man behind the mask.

He hadn't said that in so many words, of course, but Will had thought more than once that he'd seen a flash of something in Hannibal's eyes, something that revealed what his true thoughts were. And Hannibal wouldn't have been so gentle with him last night if he didn't care.

Just thinking about last night made Will's heartbeat quicken -- and his body harden. He squirmed slightly as he pulled the seat belt across his chest and fastened it, then started the car. Amazing how just thinking about Hannibal and what had happened last night could arouse him ....

No one else had ever had that kind of power over him. No one else had ever made him want them with this kind of aching need, a desire that he couldn't control.

Hannibal wore a mask, too. He knew that. He'd known that from the first time they had met; there had been a shuttered look to Hannibal's face, and he'd kept his tone carefully modulated, avoiding making eye contract with Will. At first, Will had thought he was hiding something.

Now, he didn't believe that any more. He simply felt that Hannibal was more like him than he'd thought, a man who had a hard time fitting in with society and all that was expected of him. Hannibal hid who he really was, as if he, too, was afraid that someone would get too close.

Will was sure that Hannibal, like him, was a very lonely man.

He wanted to assuage that loneliness for both of them. It might not be the easiest thing he'd ever attempted, but he wanted to build a life with Hannibal. He couldn't help but feel that the two of them belonged together, that fate had somehow brought them to each other.

One day, they would both be able to rip off those protective masks they wore, and stand before each other with all of their failings and shortcomings exposed. And they wold both be able to accept each other for who they were -- and love each other the more for those failings.

He was sure that their relationship would only grow stronger with time. Once they knew each other better and grew closer, all of those masks would fall away, and be gone forever.

Will wanted to strip all of those masks away, to let Hannibal see him exactly as he was -- and he wanted to see Hannibal in that way, too. It might take a while, but they would get there. Every day would be a new step towards that point in time.

Whatever was hidden behind that mask, he wanted to see it fully, in all of its glory.


	4. A Little Bit Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is bringing Will closer to him, one small step at a time.

Hannibal leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers under his chin thoughtfully. He had some time before Will wold be here, and he needed to think about just what he intended to happen between them tonight. He hadn't made up his mind yet.

Would he send Will on his way home, telling him that they needed to spend a night or two apart? Or would he take the young man into his bed again?

He would really prefer the latter, but he had a disconcerting feeling that this relationship was moving far too fast. Will was irresistible, that was true, but he was also a danger to Hannibal. He couldn't afford to let Will get too close, to let him see too much.

Yet, at the same time, he wanted Will to move closer to him.

Since Will had come into his life, he'd discovered a new zest for living, one that he'd thought had deserted him long ago. Maybe all it had taken to bring that feeling back was finding someone who suited him perfectly, someone who made his heart race and his senses tingle.

No one had done that for a very long time. Will Graham was indeed a treasure, one to be savored and fully enjoyed. He had done that last night, savoring Will's beautiful body as he'd taken him, not once but twice, throwing caution to the winds.

He hadn't realized when he was stripping Will's clothes off that the boy was a virgin; that fact had been yet another enticement, a pleasant discovery.

He hadn't really thought before that he could have Will. He had considered the sexual tension between them something that would always go unresolved, something that would tickle at the edges of his senses but that would never be fulfilled.

He had never expected Will to offer himself in the way he had.

Oh, he'd thought about the possibility, even dreamed about it. But he had never thought that he would have Will in his arms, in his bed, and be given the freedom to do anything he wanted to that delectable body. It had been a very pleasant surprise.

Taking WIll last night had made him feel powerful, and he had missed that feeling lately. He had only been able to capture that feeling recently when he had killed, and even that was beginning to feel stagnant. Will had brought light back into his life, pushing the darkness away.

Of course, he always felt more comfortable in that darkness -- but something about Will made him want to walk into the light. He knew that he could never remain there; it wasn't his nature. But to spend time there with Will brought a new dimension to his existence.

Will excited him, challenged him, and made him feel alive. His desire for the young man only flared higher each time they were together.

Last night had been a night to remember, for both of them.

Perhaps he had gone too far in some ways. When he had left the bed this morning, he had almost felt a bit remorseful for the bruises he had left on Will's slender body; he didn't know how Will would react when he awoke and discovered them.

But Will hadn't seemed to even notice those bruises this morning, when they'd been in the kitchen together. Perhaps he was discovering a side to his young lover that he'd never thought existed; Will had actually seemed to _enjoy_ it when he was rough.

That had been something completely unexpected. And it gave him the freedom to experiment further with Will, to see just how far he could go before the boy pulled back.

No, he wouldn't push that far -- he didn't want Will to back away from him, or to become skittish of their new relationship. What he wanted was for the boy to move closer, even if it was in small steps, just a little bit closer at a time, until he was right where Hannibal wanted him to be.

Last night had been a wonderful start.

Will had been much more responsive than Hannibal had expected; he probably had those years of pent-up sexuality that needed to be released. And he had been so _needy_ ; Hannibal had been delighted to discover that need, and to assuage it.

Will had been coming a little bit closer in small baby steps, just a few inches at a time. Last night had been a huge leap forward; Will had come to his bed much sooner than Hannibal had thought he would, and the result had been incredible.

The sex had been amazing, in spite of the fact that Will had been a virgin and unsure of what to do. Perhaps that fact had only made it better.

Will had let himself be led, which was again something that Hannibal hadn't expected. He had thought that the boy would balk, that he would pull away from some of the things Hannibal had done. But he had accepted them all, and even seemed to enjoy them.

Will was much more malleable than he'd expected. Again, that was a good thing.

He had thoroughly enjoyed their time in bed -- and he was fairly sure that Will had, as well. Not that Will's enjoyment meant much to him; it was good if the boy felt pleasure, because that would keep him coming back for more. But it wasn't Hannibal's goal.

His goal was to discover the chinks in Will's armor, to find out how his young lover could be manipulated. It had been almost pathetically easy to do that.

Will might think that he kept his walls fortified, but last night, they had come tumbling down under Hannibal's physical assault. So that had been the way all along to bring those protections that Will kept to tightly wrapped around himself to the ground, he thought with a wry smile.

Who would have known that the way to discovering Will's weaknesses was through sex? If he had realized that, he would have seduced the boy long before he did. Will wold have been in his bed almost from the first moment they had met.

Though probably not. That wouldn't really have presented a challenge.

That was one of the things he enjoyed the most about Will, he reflected. The young man challenged him; he wasn't easy to predict, or easy to overwhelm.

But once he had Will in bed, those walls had come down so speedily that Hannibal could almost believe they had never been there. Will had begged for more, begged him not to stop; he'd inadvertently shown Hannibal the way into his soul.

Yes, Will had taken several steps closer to him last night, unconsciously inviting Hannibal into his world, into his very soul. He probably didn't realize just how dangerous that could be, and Hannibal didn't intend to enlighten him on that score.

Will would keep taking those small steps closer to him, moving a little bit closer at a time, until he belonged to Hannibal in every way.

And once he did, then Hannibal would begin sowing the seeds of his destruction.

That would be a pity, really, he thought with a sigh. Perhaps he would hold off on that for quite a while; after all, once he had groomed Will to be exactly what he wanted, it wouldn't do to deprive himself of his plaything too soon, before he'd had the chance to enjoy it fully.

Hannibal smiled as the sound of the doorbell reverberated through the house. Ah, that would be Will, arriving here after a long day at work. He would enjoy taking their relationship even further tonight, and bringing Will a little bit closer to him, one small step at a time.


	5. Tendrils of Seduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How can Hannibal sit there, looking so seductive, knowing that he's driving Will insane?

It felt like they were strangers again.

Why was it that there were times when he felt completely comfortable with Hannibal, as though he could tell all of his secrets to this man and trust him implicitly -- and there were other times when all of his senses screamed at him to run away?

He couldn't take his eyes off the other man; Hannibal wasn't doing anything other than sitting there, one leg crossed over the other, patiently waiting for Will to speak, yet he seemed so seductive, as though he was somehow beckoning to Will to move closer.

He wasn't going to do that. He wasn't going to make the first move; that was for Hannibal to do. It was his decision to make.

If Hannibal wanted to take things in the same direction that they had gone last night, then he would have to instigate it. Will wasn't going to let himself lose control; not this time. He'd done that last night, almost throwing himself at Hannibal.

He was ashamed of those actions now. He should have more self-control than that, he berated himself. He shouldn't throw himself at a man he barely knew, a man who was dangerous and disquieting and had the ability to get inside his head.

But he couldn't stop himself. He couldn't stay away from Hannibal if he tried, and that was precisely what made this man so dangerous to him.

Try as he might, he couldn't resist Hannibal.

Oh, he might put up a token struggle, try to convince himself that he didn't need this man, that he didn't want him more than he'd ever wanted anything. He might even try to convince himself that he didn't need the pleasure that Hannibal was capable of giving him.

But in the end, all that pretense would vanish; all the walls would come tumbling down again. He would be in Hannibal's bed, in Hannibal's arms, moaning out his lover's name, taking whatever Hannibal wanted to give him. He knew that all too well.

He had no self-control when it came to Hannibal. Even when the other man wasn't openly trying to seduce him, he managed to do so just with one look, one gesture. Hell, he didn't even have to gesture. He just had to fix Will with those magnetic eyes.

He couldn't resist that come-hither gaze. At this point, all Hannibal would have to do was lift a hand and crook his little finger, and Will would be his.

Will hated to admit that he was so infatuated, but there it was. He had no way to deny it; he couldn't turn his back on all that he felt, even if it was a bit embarrassing to admit that he was so caught up in this man. He had to be honest about his emotions.

Was he in love with Hannibal? He didn't think so.

But he was definitely fascinated by the man, unable to pull away from him. Every move that Hannibal made, every expression that flitted across his features, was like a seduction to Will. He could read so much into those expressions, even without words.

He didn't need to put what he felt into words. It was enough that those feelings existed; finding words for them was too troubling, too exhausting.

Besides, what did words mean? Words could be seductive, yes; they could make him understand exactly what Hannibal wanted of him, and what Hannibal wanted to do to him. But Will had discovered in no uncertain terms that actions could speak much more loudly than words.

It was Hannibal's actions that drew Will to him; it was the touching, the kissing, the feel of their bodies bare against each other, the joining, the exquisite pleasure that came from it. None of that needed words. It was a seduction unto itself.

Truthfully, everything about Hannibal seduced him. The other man's lips, his eyes, his graceful movements, his facial expressions .... There was nothing about his lover that he didn't find seductive and beautiful. Hannibal drove him to distraction.

Was that love? Or was it merely lust? Will didn't know.

He'd never really understood what love was supposed to be -- and until he'd met Hannibal, he hadn't really understood lust, either. Oh, he had thought that he wanted other people; he'd thought that he knew what desire could be. But he had been wrong.

No one else had ever made his body burn with desire the way that Hannibal did. With just one look, just one smile, Hannibal held him mesmerized.

No one else had ever been able to do that. No one else held such sway over him; no one else had ever been as fascinating as Hannibal was. And now, with this new relationship, this physicality between them, he was stripping away layers he'd never thought existed.

There was so much more to Hannibal than he'd at first thought, so many more layers than there appeared to be from that smooth, lacquered surface. Yet even though he had come to know Hannibal better than ever after that first night, now it felt as though they didn't know each other at all.

Why did he have to sit there, with that smirk on his face, as though he knew everything that Will was thinking and feeling?

Did Hannibal _know_ that he was driving Will insane with his mere presence? Did he know how much he was wanted? Could he sense the desire building within Will, the need to touch and to be touched, the need to be swept up and taken?

Of course he could. That gaze saw everything, divined everything.

Will didn't doubt that Hannibal knew exactly what he was feeling. He was sure that the other man was being deliberately provocative, sitting there without saying a word, just letting that gaze work its own peculiar magic on Will. He knew exactly what he was doing.

There was no escape from that cool, contemplative gaze, just as there would be no escape from Hannibal's arms once the other man decided that he'd had enough of this waiting game and got down to business. Will knew that he would lose this game even before it had begun.

Even though the silence between them made him feel as though they were strangers again, just sitting down for their first session, his desire for Hannibal was all-encompassing. He couldn't hide it, try as he might. Hannibal would always see right through him.

There was no way for him to avoid that gaze, nowhere to hide. The tendrils of seduction were reaching out to ensnare him, to wrap him in their enticing coils.

It was useless to try to resist. He was helpless to do so.

As though Hannibal knew exactly what he was thinking, the other man stood up, moving to where Will sat. He grasped both of Will's handx and hauled him to his feet; for a moment, they stood there facing each other, still gazing into each other's eyes.

Will didn't know what he read in those eyes. It might be lust, it might be love, it might be nothing more than the desire to have his way with him. He couldn't tell. But whatever it was, he instinctively responded to it, his own desire crashing down over him like a wave.

Then he was in Hannibal's arms, and those lips were on his. Hannibal was kissing him, those hands moving over his body, pulling him close; one hand splaying across his back, the other moving down to cup the rounded curves of his ass.

All he could do was cling to Hannibal, feeling weak with desire, knowing that he had been seduced without words, drawn irrevocably into the other man's arms.

This was where he belonged. This was the only place he wanted to be. If that made him weak, then so be it. He _was_ weak when it came to Hannibal; he had no control, no will of his own; he was putty in Hannibal's hands, clay to be shaped and molded.

From the beginning, he had been well and truly seduced.


	6. Receptacle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will knows that at times like these, Hannibal is just using him -- but he doesn't care.

No more waiting. He couldn't hold back any longer.

Will's fingers tore at the buttons on the front of his shirt, impatient to have it off. He didn't care if he ripped the fabric, didn't care if buttons scattered over the floor. He just wanted to be skin to skin with Hannibal, no physical barriers between them.

He had to get out of his clothes. It didn't matter if he ripped them off his body; he might not have any other clothes here, but that didn't seem to matter at the moment. All he wanted was to be naked with Hannibal, to offer the other man his body.

They weren't strangers now; they were lovers who knew each other's bodies intimately. The feeling of being separated from Hannibal had washed away as though it had never been, drowned by a tide of desire so strong that he could almost taste it.

He'd never felt this way about anyone else. He'd never wanted to. Hannibal was the only person who could make his body and soul burn like this.

He never wanted anyone else. He only wanted this man, now and forever. He wanted Hannibal's hands and lips all over him, touching him in every possible way; he wanted Hannibal inside him, thrusting into him, joining their bodies in the primal act of consummation.

Will barely noticed that Hannibal was removing his clothes as well.

It took him longer than he had thought it would to get his shirt off; fortunately, he managed to do so without ripping it from his body, even though some of the buttons were casualties of his frenzied tugging. Within moments, his jeans were on the floor.

Naked, he finally looked to where Hannibal stood; the other man had his arms folded across his chest, a small smile on his face as he watched Will. He had apparently been able to get out of his clothes quickly and quietly, barely making a sound.

Hannibal's apparent calm brought a blush to Will's cheeks; had he looked completely crazy struggling out of his clothes? Did he seem far too eager?

It didn't really matter. The only thing that mattered was having those hands that he hungered for touching his body, having that mouth on his. The only thing that mattered was being naked in Hannibal's arms, feeling the warmth of his lover's skin against his own.

Within the blink of an eye, Hannibal was in front of him, pulling Will into his arms. The suddenness of their contact brought a gasp to his lips; he could have sworn that Hannibal moved with the stealth of a jungle cat, that he crossed the space between them in a flash.

Hannibal's hands moved down his back to cup his ass, pulling him close. Will moaned as his erection rubbed against Hannibal's; he couldn't stop himself from thrusting his hips against his lover's body, craving the friction between them.

Then Hannibal was pushing him away, his hands on Will's shoulders.

"None of that, Will," he murmured, his tone slightly vexed. "If you do that again, then I'll have to restrain you." A smile tugged the corners of his lips upwards; he raised a brow, regarding Will with a heated gaze. "Though that might not be such a bad idea."

"No," Will whispered, surprised to realize that he was trembling with the force of his desire. "No, please. I want to be able to touch you."

Hannibal frowned, a sure sign that Will's words had displeased him. Immediately, Will wished that he could take them back, but that was impossible; the words had already been said, and he had to deal with the consequences of speaking too quickly.

"Turn around and lean over the desk," Hannibal told him, and Will could feel his heart sinking. He hated to be facing away from Hannibal whenever they had sex; it made him feel as though he was being used, as though the two of them were sharing nothing.

When Hannibal didn't face him, he felt as if he was nothing more than a receptacle. And really, that was what Hannibal turned him into at those times; he was just using Will for his own pleasure, not caring what Will might be feeling.

Or maybe he _did_ care, but just couldn't show it.

Will didn't know what Hannibal was feeling at the moment; all he knew was that he had fucked up and made a mistake that was going to make this encounter one to be gotten through, not one to revel in the pleasure of. And it was his own fault.

But at least he was getting what he wanted; he was naked with Hannibal, and their bodies would be joining. If he could simply concentrate on that, then he'd be okay. He didn't have to make some kind of connection with Hannibal every time they got intimate.

Will turned around and prepared to stretch out over the desk -- when he was pushed down, hitting the polished wood with a _whoosh_ of breath from his lungs. He wanted to cry out, wanted to protest, but he couldn't suck in enough air to make a sound.

Hannibal's fingers were spreading him, opening him roughly; he hoped that his lover would make use of the lube he knew Hannibal always kept handy, or this wouldn't be pleasant.

He sighed with relief when one, then two, fingers entered him; they were slick with lube, so Hannibal had apparently decided not to punish him too much. His muscles tightened when those fingers slid deeply into him, then scissored, opening him further.

This was apparently going to be quick and dirty.

All right, then. He could take that; there were times when he even liked it. He had wanted more than that from Hannibal tonight, but if that was all his lover was wiling to give him, then he would take what he could get, and hope for more warmth at a later date.

What was he thinking? He didn't want warmth; he wasn't looking for affection at the moment. He just wanted Hannibal, in any way he could have the other man. If this was the only way Hannibal wanted to take him tonight, then he would revel in it.

It only took a few moments for Hannibal to stretch and prepare him; Will gasped when he felt the engorged head of Hannibal's cock press against his entrance, then slide inside him, filling him; Hannibal's hands moved up his sides, then back down to his hips.

Will concentrated on tightening his muscles around Hannibal's cock; he knew that added to his lover's pleasure, as well as to his own.

How many little tricks like that had he learned since they had become lovers? Hannibal hadn't exactly been a teacher; he'd discovered those small things on his own, and shamelessly used them to make sure that Hannibal took pleasure in their couplings.

He'd do anything he had to do, as long as Hannibal kept coming back.

He was close now; each thrust moved him further towards completion, closer to that ecstasy he knew was waiting. He wanted to grind his hips against the desk, but Hannibal was holding him back as he thrust ever more deeply, keeping Will from finding the friction he needed.

Will gasped, clawing at the edge of the desk, wishing that he could thrust his hips against something. But he was held there as Hannibal pounded into him, bent over, legs spread, unable to do anything but take what Hannibal was giving him.

They were strangers again. The words went through his mind like a shot, a bullet of thought that crashed into his skull and left him reeling.

Hannibal wasn't loving him. Not at all. This man was _taking_ him, coldly and impersonally, without a care for his pleasure. All Hannibal was doing at this point was satisfying himself -- and even though he knew he shouldn't, Will was aroused by that fact.

He didn't want to _like_ being used as nothing more than a receptacle, but in a way, it aroused him unbearably. It was turning him on to know that Hannibal would simply fuck him and then probably tell him to leave. It was .... dirty. And, in a way, hot.

No. This wasn't what he wanted. Not at all.

But it was all he would get, and he knew it. He would have nothing more tonight than being sprawled naked over Hannibal's desk, used like a whore, and then told to get out. In a way, it fit what he was, didn't it? Will asked himself.

He was Hannibal's whore. He'd known it from the beginning, known that there would never be any real caring, any real emotion between them unless Hannibal would let down those walls he always kept wrapped so tightly around himself.

Will had walls of his own, but his weren't as protective as Hannibal's were. And if he couldn't let his own walls down, then he couldn't expect it from Hannibal, either.

He cried out as he felt Hannibal's released inside him; his own followed just a few seconds later, myriad pinwheels of light spinning before his eyes. Will slumped against the desk as Hannibal pulled out of him, barely registering the other man's words.

"I think it's time for you to leave for the evening, Will." They were the words that he had expected Hannibal to say, the words that he'd known were inevitable. There was no use arguing; when Hannibal made up his mind about something, it wasn't going to change.

He nodded, not turning around as he listened to Hannibal gathering his clothes.

When he knew that Hannibal was gone, he slowly turned around, bending over to pick up his own clothes and slowly put them on before he headed for the door.

Will didn't even look up at the stairs as he let himself out of the house, walking slowly to his car with dragging feet. He didn't know that he was being watched from a second-floor window, Hannibal's gaze following the tail lights of the car long after it was out of sight.


	7. Left Wanting More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His recent encounter with Will has left Hannibal feeling unfulfilled.

Hannibal watched the tail lights of Will's car until they were out of sight; he wanted to turn away from the window, but something held him there, even though he could no longer see the other man's car moving through the night on its way back to Wolf Trap.

When he finally did turn away from the window and let the curtain fall, he was frowning, deep in thought as he made his way down the hall to his bedroom.

He hadn't planned on taking Will tonight, not in the way that he had. But he had been goaded by the other man's beauty, by his own unquenchable desire for Will. He had never wanted anyone as badly as he wanted Will Graham, and it bothered him.

Will was his weakness. A weakness that he could ill afford to have.

If he kept giving in those moments of lust, then he was no better than the common men who he tried his best to rise above. He had always prided himself on his self-control -- but when it came to Will, it seemed that he had none.

Will was intoxicating, irresistible, a beacon in the darkness that always seemed to surround him. Will appealed to his senses, luring him to do things that he would ordinarily never do -- and to entertain thoughts that he would usually rather push aside.

His desire for Will was becoming problematic.

Not that he intended to dispose of Will any time soon. Oh no, not now that he had the young man under his spell. He had doubted that Will was in thrall to him, though he knew that those feelings were growing; that was why he hadn't made a move as of yet.

But now that they had been together, Hannibal knew that he would find it harder and harder to let Will go. It wasn't love, of course; but yet, what he felt was more than mere lust, though tonight, he'd tried to convince himself that lust was his only motivation for taking Will.

It wasn't. Tonight had not fulfilled him.

He wanted more. He wanted not only Will's body, but his heart and soul. Bending Will over that desk and taking him roughly hadn't given him nearly the satisfaction that having Will in his bed had. That was an entirely different feeling, one that he was starting to crave.

Perhaps he needed Will more than he had thought he would. And that made Will a dangerous weakness, one that he would have to curb.

Hannibal sighed softly as he entered his bedroom, wishing that Will was still here. But no, that would be giving in a weakness that he had sworn not to indulge too often. Still, it would be pleasurable to let that weakness take him over, even if it only left him wanting more.


	8. Don't Always Look At the Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will realizes that he has to stop brooding over the dark side of his relationship with Hannibal.

Will stood at his bedroom window, staring out at the rainy day. It had been pouring ever since last night, and he'd barely beaten the rain home in his drive from the FBI Academy. He had just made it into the front door when the rain had begun.

The dogs hadn't been happy about missing their usual weekend outside, romping in the woods around the house and yapping excitedly. But even though he'd let them out to do what they had to do, he hadn't let them stay in the rain for long.

Now, he was reduced to standing here watching the fat drops hit the glass of the windowpane and wondering what Hannibal was doing.

Was he standing at his window, too, watching the rain and thinking of the man he'd so unceremoniously sent away after they'd had sex just three nights ago? No, probably not. Hannibal wasn't the sort of person to waste a moment of he time.

Hannibal probably wasn't even thinking of him.

Will sighed, closing his eyes to block out the depressing sight of the sheets of rain cascading down the glass. He didn't want to think about that last night, didn't want to think about how it had made him feel when Hannibal had told him to leave.

Maybe it had been for the best. Maybe they were getting too close, and Hannibal was trying to keep him at arm's length for good reasons.

But that didn't make him feel any better. He had been avoiding Hannibal -- he'd missed a session, and hadn't seen his lover in three long days -- and that avoidance had only made his heart ache more, as well as making his body yearn for Hannibal's touch.

He had to stop thinking about Hannibal -- and he really had to stop avoiding the conversation they needed to have. Avoidance wasn't doing either of them any good. It would only build up the wall that was already there between the two of them.

They had to talk, and they had to do it soon.

But he wasn't going to drive all the way into Baltimore on a day like this. It might be Saturday, he might have the day off, but he wasn't going to go out when it was raining so hard if he didn't absolutely have to. And really, he needed to gather his thoughts.

If he tried to talk to Hannibal when he was feeling like this, without having thought about what he was going to say beforehand, there was a good chance that he'd screw things up by saying the first thing that came into his mind. That wasn't a good idea.

He'd long ago learned the folly of speaking before he thought about his words. He was all too good at doing that, and he didn't want it to happen this time.

He wanted to sit down and talk to Hannibal calmly and rationally, explain to his lover exactly how he felt, and hopefully get things worked out between the two of them. They couldn't keep going like this, not when he felt as though he wasn't really a part of Hannibal's life.

He wasn't so much Hannibal's lover as a .... distraction.

Anyway, that was how he felt, he thought gloomily. Maybe Hannibal didn't see him in that way, but it was definitely the feeling he got more and more often when they were together. He hated that feeling; he didn't want to think of himself in that light.

If that was how Hannibal thought of him, then their relationship really wasn't going anywhere. Will didn't want to think that was the case; he wanted to believe that Hannibal had more regard for him than that, and that his lover saw him as being someone special.

After all, Hannibal wouldn't want to be with him if he had no feelings for him, would he? There _had_ to be something under that calm, enigmatic exterior.

There was a passionate man under that calmness Hannibal always showed to the world. Will had seen that passion more than once; he knew what Hannibal kept hidden under that carefully groomed outer shell. He knew the kind of passions his lover was capable of.

He just wished that Hannibal would bring those passions to the light more often.

Hannibal was a passionate man; no one knew that better than Will. He was sure that no one in the little intimate circle of people that Hannibal tended to spend his time with knew just what kind of passion was hidden under that quiet, enigmatic surface.

Only he knew. And though the bright flames of that passion had swept him up in their grasp before, those passions could be just as easily doused.

Just like the rain was drenching everything around them right now, Will thought with another soft sigh. He couldn't help but feel that the rain pouring down outside mirrored his own inner feelings; the hope that kept a light burning within him had been effectively snuffed out.

Maybe Hannibal hadn't meant to do that, but it was exactly what had happened. No, his love for the other man hadn't died, but a little bit of the hope that Hannibal bore the same kind of love in his heart, that his lover returned his emotions, had been chipped away.

He didn't want to lose that hope. If he did, then there was no going back.

He didn't want to always look at the rain, at the dark side of things. But it seemed that lately, his wavering relationship with Hannibal was growing darker. The bright light of their passion for each other was giving way to something that he didn't know how to put a name to.

Always looking at the dark side of his relationship with Hannibal wasn't going to move things forward; if he kept looking at the proverbial rain that fell into their lives, then he would never be able to see the good that had come of their relationship.

Being with Hannibal had brought him out of his self-imposed isolation, had made him more aware of the world around him. That was probably a good thing.

And more than that, being in love with Hannibal had given him a sense of purpose. For the first time in his life, he was driven by a wish to find his own happiness, by something outside of his work. And he liked having that goal in his life.

He wasn't going to keep looking at only the rain. He'd see the bright side, too.

If he kept looking at the rain, and didn't see the good things about his relationship with Hannibal, then that relationship would inevitably deteriorate. He couldn't let that happen. He had to talk to his lover, and sooner was probably better than later.

Will made a face at the rain; he hated to go out when it was like this, but talking to Hannibal was a priority. They had to get some things straightened out between them. 

It might not be the easiest thing to do, but he wanted to make sure that he knew where they stood. And if Hannibal was starting to feel as though he wanted their relationship to be less intense, less emotional, he needed to know that, too -- so he could figure out how he felt about that.

Will sighed, turning away from the rain outside the window to head for his closet. He would get dressed, then brave the rain and drive into Baltimore. He needed to talk to Hannibal, to set his mind at ease. Once he did that, then hopefully, he'd be able to see more than just the rain.


	9. Off Balance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal has plans to toy with Will's mental stability.

Hannibal frowned, shoving himself away from the desk and getting up from his chair. He was supposed to have a session with Will tonight, and there was less than half an hour before the young man would be here, in front of him, waiting for them to talk.

It was highly unethical for him to be both Will's psychiatrist and his lover -- though technically, Will wasn't his patient and never had been.

Their sessions were simply .... talk. A talk between two people who happened to need each other. Two people who were attracted to each other. If that talk helped Will maintain his mental health, then so much the better. But they weren't really psychiatric sessions.

No, they were more of a way for him to get inside Will's mind.

He had managed to do so with more than he'd thought would be possible. It almost amused him how easily he had peeled back the layers of what Will thought were protections, layers that he had kept wrapped so tightly about himself for so long.

Those protections had been as nothing for Hannibal to break through. He'd had no problem razing those barriers, stripping them away and leaving Will vulnerable and exposed. And that was when their real dance of desire had begun.

He'd swept Will off his feet -- and that had been incredibly easy, as well. Will had been ripe for the picking, ready for someone to come into his life as a lover.

Will himself hadn't realized just what he'd been searching for in his life; that had amused Hannibal as well. The young man thought that he knew what he wanted -- but Will had no clue as to the deeper, darker desires that Hannibal knew resided in his heart.

He would bring out those desires, front and center.

He was already doing so. But for the moment, he would settle for keeping Will unsure, keeping him off balance, not knowing in which direction he should move. Keeping him confused was the best way to insure that he turned to Hannibal for guidance.

Of course, he wasn't to know that Hannibal was the person who was blindfolding him and spinning him in circles until his mental faculties were blurred and indistinct. If Will realized the game that Hannibal was playing, then the careful setup would come crumbling down.

He would have to be very careful; playing games with someone's mental health, especially someone as fragile as Will already was, could have dire consequences.

Yes, he would take care to preserve Will's mental faculties at the same time that he toyed with the young man as a cat plays with a mouse, keeping it under its paw until it decides to administer the final, killing blow. Though that wasn't precisely what he had in mind.

He wasn't going to dispatch Will. Oh, no. He had other plans.

He wanted to break Will down, then remake this young man in the way that he viewed Will -- rather like Pygmalion with his Galatea, only he had to say that his Galatea was far more beautiful than any he'd had ever thought to lay eyes on before.

Will would become exactly what Hannibal wanted him to be -- but he would never be a mere puppet. No, Will's mental strength would keep him from that.

As fragile as he was, there was an inner core of steel in Will Graham -- and though Hannibal was sure that he could be broken down, piece by piece, he would also retain those mental faculties that made him so irresistible to Hannibal in the first place.

Hannibal had no wish to destroy Will; only to break him to the point where he could be remade. For that, he would need Will's trust -- and these games that he played with the young man would make him feel that he needed Hannibal even more than he actually did.

Push him away, then draw him in even more closely.

It had worked so far, and Hannibal saw no reason to believe that he couldn't cast out the line and then reel it in a few more times. Will was hanging on the edge, dangling from a precipice; it wouldn't take much more of this for him to crack.

He would facilitate Will's mental breakdown, guide it, and own it. He would know exactly when to push, and when to pull back. He was an excellent judge of such things.

And he would keep Will off balance during all of that time, pushing and pulling at him, blindfolding him and spinning him around as though this was a children's game of Blind Man's Bluff. He would make sure that the only direction Will could move in was towards him.

Will's mental state was in a delicate balance at the moment -- and Hannibal knew just how to turn that balance to his advantage. He would spin Will around, confuse him, make him feel unsure about their newly burgeoning relationship.

And then, he would hold out a hand amidst the confusion.

It was the perfect way to bring Will to him. Unbalance his mental stability, then offer to help him find that balance again. And Will would never realize the truth.

Hannibal turned as he heard a knock at the door, a smile curving his lips. Will was here, and the next phase of his plan could begin. It remained to be seen just how off balance he was -- though Hannibal was confident that he could work with whatever was presented to him.


	10. Sleeplessness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will can't sleep when he's not with Hannibal.

Will turned over, growling and punching the pillow before lying his head down on it again. He hated having insomnia; he wished that he could simply lie down in bed, pull the covers up, and fall asleep, like any normal person did when they were tired.

But not him. His brain wouldn't stop spinning long enough for him to do that. It kept throwing images and ideas at him, long after he should have fallen asleep.

He never felt like this when he slept at Hannibal's house.

Of course, when he did that, he was always tired from their sexual encounters by the time he finally drifted off to sleep. Sex always made him sleepy -- but then, that was normal and natural, Hannibal assured him. There was nothing unusual about falling asleep after sex.

That wasn't something he would have known before he met Hannibal. Will felt the slow blush spread over his cheeks; things like that always embarrassed him.

It shouldn't be so hard for him to think about sex with Hannibal, not he was alone in his own bed at home. When he was with Hannibal, there was no embarrassment; that only came when he thought about what they did, not in the heat of the moment.

He had no reason to be embarrassed.

Hannibal was his lover; there was no shame in that. Not only his lover, but the man he loved. The man he wanted to give himself to in every way, the man he intended to spend his life with. That thought didn't bring a blush to his cheeks.

No, the only thing that made him blush was the memory of the things that Hannibal did to him in the dead of night, in the privacy of that huge bedroom.

Why should he be embarrassed? He was sure that the things Hannibal did to him were no different than what thousands of couples did together; there was no reason to be ashamed of something that was a natural, healthy part of human life.

And sex helped him sleep, when nothing else did.

Will smiled sourly, turning over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. That wasn't exactly the best reason for wanting to spend time with Hannibal -- and it wasn't like he could tell his lover that. "Hey, I want to spend the night and have sex with you so I can sleep."

He grimaced at the very thought of saying such words to Hannibal. Yeah, that would earn him point with the man who was his lover. Not.

Hannibal would more than likely be insulted to hear something like that -- and Will wouldn't blame him in the slightest. It wasn't a great reason for wanting to be with anybody -- though that wasn't why he wanted to spend time with Hannibal, of course.

He loved Hannibal. He craved being in the other man's presence.

 _That_ was why he wanted to be there right now, in Hannibal's bed, in his arms, instead of being here, alone, in a cold and empty bed. He wanted the peacefulness that came with knowing that he was wanted, and, yes, _loved_.

And dammit, he wanted to be able to sleep. Will punched the pillow again, stifling a curse. He _hated_ this sleeplessness, but he couldn't do anything about it.

Not unless he drove into Baltimore and knocked on Hannibal's front door, and he wasn't about to do that. Not at nearly one o'clock in the morning. Then Hannibal really _would_ think he was going insane, and probably wouldn't even let him into the house.

No, all he could do was lie here, and try his best to go to sleep.

Easier said than done, he grumbled to himself as he punched the pillow again. If he couldn't go to sleep within the next hour or so, he'd give up, go downstairs, make a pot of coffee, and sit up all night reading a book. It wouldn't be the first time.

He'd talk to Hannibal about this sleeplessness tomorrow. They'd discussed it before, but hadn't talked about ways to deal with it. Will thought it was past time they did.

Maybe he'd end up spending the night at Hannibal's, and actually getting some sleep.


	11. Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will wonders what a Halloween spent at Hannibal's house will be like.

"So what are you planning to do for the holiday?" Will looked over at Hannibal with his brows raised in question, wondering what the answer would be. Hannibal didn't really seem like the kind of man who would decorate his house and pass out candy at Halloween.

Of course, if trick-or-treating children came to the door, Will had no doubt that Hannibal would have a bowl of candy close by to dole out a few pieces. After all, it would be rude not to.

And Hannibal was never rude.

He would smile at the children, give them candy, and send them on their way. It would be one of those tight smiles, the ones that never reached his eyes. The smiles that he gave everyone except Will. The smiles that were patently false.

Will hoped that no one came to the door. He really didn't want to share Hannibal with trick-or-treaters, even if they were only there for a few moments.

He was feeling more himself lately, though he still had bouts of sleeplessness when he wasn't here in his lover's home at night. Every night that he spent away from Hannibal felt like an eternity; he wished that they lived closer to each other.

Though if they did, he'd never spend a night in his own bed.

He couldn't help smiling at that thought. He spent enough nights here as it was -- he was usually here for at least one weekend night, and a couple of evenings during the week. The dogs were still well taken care of; he never neglected them, even when he didn't spend nights at home.

He'd be at home tomorrow night after work, and he would let the dogs out for a good run. The next day, he would go fishing, and they would accompany him.

It was a good life, wasn't it? He had his lover, his work, his home and his pets. Even if he kept his distance from the rest of the world, he had what he needed. And he really couldn't ask for more than that. If he did, he would be greedy.

He'd be like the kid who always wanted more candy at Halloween.

Will smiled wryly at that thought; he'd never thought of himself in that way, but it was an apt analogy. Now that he had everything that he really needed in his life, asking for more seemed like far too much. He didn't need more. He was content with what he had.

He'd be here at Halloween, so he would be the one who went to the door and gave candy to any kids who were trick-or-treating. He wouldn't expect Hannibal to bother with that.

The other man's voice brought him out of his thoughts and back into reality. "I wasn't really planning on doing anything, Will," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Though it might be interesting to carve out a few pumpkins and put them out."

Will couldn't help smiling. "Scary ones, to keep the kids away?"

"On the contrary." Hannibal raised a brow, looking amused. "I would never be so rude as to turn children seeking candy away on Halloween."

"And what if I told you that I wanted a different kind of candy?" Will asked, his voice very soft, almost afraid to voice the words. They slipped out almost of their own volition; now that they were said, there was no way to take them back.

Hannibal's wicked little smirk was all the answer he needed.


	12. The Reality of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in his life, Will's reality is better than his dreams.

He didn't want to fall asleep.

For once, Will welcomed a sleepless night. He'd spent Halloween night at Hannibal's, and their lovemaking had taken him beyond the stars. He could only think of it as lovemaking; Hannibal had been unusually sweet and loving, touching him so gently.

The sex had been amazing, as always. When was it ever anything but incredible? Even when Hannibal was rough, it was always good.

Yet that night in his lover's bed had felt different from any other time they'd ever had sex. It had been making love in every sense of the word; Will had only felt that with Hannibal a few times before. This time, it had been stronger than ever, touching his heart in ways he hadn't expected.

If he fell asleep, then his dreams would take over. He didn't want that.

This was the first time that his real life had ever felt better than his dreams, the first time that reality had ever come close to all that he ad dreamed. No, this time, reality was far better than any dream he'd ever had, and he wanted to revel in it.

He wanted to enjoy reality, to lie back and wallow in it. This was the first time he'd ever felt truly loved, felt that someone needed him.

Maybe he was wrong about that. Maybe Hannibal didn't really need him, but he was _sure_ that his lover cared. Maybe it wasn't true love, not on Hannibal's part anyway -- but there was no way that his lover could touch him like that and not care.

No one was capable of that kind of deception, least of all Hannibal.

He knew that his lover had secrets. He'd never doubted that. Hannibal wasn't the kind of man who gave up his secrets easily; he kept them close, guarding them carefully.

But Will didn't want to pry into his lover's secrets. When Hannibal was ready to tell him about them, to reveal more of his past, more of his personal feelings and idiosyncrasies that Will didn't already know about, then he would. Will just had to be patient.

He'd already been more patient than he'd ever thought he could be, Will thought wryly. But that patience had paid off for him in the end.

He'd gotten under Hannibal's skin. Maybe even into his heart.

That was all he'd wanted, really. To be in Hannibal's heart, to know that the man he loved so desperately loved him in return. It would take a while for Hannibal to say those three little words, but Will was positive that one day, he would eventually hear them.

Will smiled up at the ceiling, pillowing his head on his hands and letting himself relax. It almost felt good to have this problem for the first time in his life.

He knew that he was in love, because he didn't want to fall asleep. And he didn't want to fall asleep because his reality was finally better than his dreams.

He'd never thought that would happen. But then, he had never thought he would have anyone like Hannibal in his life, either. He'd never thought that he would fall so deeply in love, and even if that love wasn't returned completely, that the other person would care for him.

Hannibal cared. He'd said so, and Will believed him.

If anyone had told him when he first met Hannibal that he would fall in love with this man, he would have scoffed and told them they were crazy. But time had proven him wrong.

He was more in love than he'd ever thought it was possible to be. And even if Hannibal wasn't in love with him, Hannibal at least was fond of him, and cared enough about him to want their relationship to continue. Maybe that would turn into love someday.

He was willing to wait for that love. It was enough now to know that Hannibal cared, and that he wanted them to be together.

More would come. In time. He simply had to keep being patient.

If he fell asleep now, then he would wake in just a few hours -- maybe not even that long -- with a desire burning deep within him that could only be assuaged by Hannibal. And as he was at home in Wolf Trap tonight, that wasn't going to happen.

So he wanted to stay awake as long as possible, to savor the waking world and know that finally, for what felt like the first time, he was wanted -- and needed.

Yes, Hannibal needed him. He might not have said so, but Will could _feel_ that need in him. He was just as much needed by his lover as he himself needed Hannibal. They completed each other; they were two halves of one whole.

He had finally found the one place where he'd always belonged.

Will wasn't sure just what the future held for the two of them. Maybe this wasn't meant to last forever. Maybe he and Hannibal would go their separate ways, and he would look back on this relationship one day and feel a pang of regret that it hadn't worked.

But he didn't think so. He felt that this would last forever, from this life into whatever the next might hold. This kind of love wasn't meant to have an ending.

The reality of love was so much better than the dream of it. He knew that he was in love, and even if the man he loved didn't feel exactly the same yet, that didn't dampen his ardor one bit. In fact, it only made him love Hannibal all the more.

For the first time in his life, reality was better than any dream he could possibly have.


	13. On and Off Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is worried by how Hannibal seems to wax hot and cold when it comes their relationship.

Will cleared his throat, looking nervously over at Hannibal, who was sitting across the kitchen table from him. They'd just had dinner, and Hannibal had insisted on making coffee. He was leaning back in his chair, sipping from his coffee cup nonchalantly.

This was as good a time as any to have a serious discussion with his boyfriend, Will thought. If only he knew how and where to begin.

He and Hannibal seemed to have such an up-and-down relationship that he wasn't sure what part of it he should address first. They were lovers one day, distant the next. But none of that distance came from Will; it was all from Hannibal's side.

He had no idea why his boyfriend waxed hot and cold. But he was going to find out.

As far as he knew, he hadn't done anything to make Hannibal act this way. He had gone over everything in his mind again and again, and he could come up with n reason.

On Halloween night, they'd gone to bed together, and Hannibal had been gentle with him, almost sweet. He had definitely been loving; they had taken a hot bath together after they'd made love, and it had been one fo the most wonderful nights of Will's life.

Then, for the past few days, Hannibal had been distant again. Not being dismissive, but simply keeping Will at arm's length, as though Hannibal didn't want him around.

It was horribly frustrating. It made him want to scream like an angry child, pound his fists on the floor, and throw a temper tantrum. But he was an adult; he certainly couldn't do something like that, not without looking foolish, and drawing Hannibal's scorn.

No, he had to keep his frustration at bay, and find a way to talk to Hannibal calmly and rationally. But that was far more easily said than done.

How did he start this conversation? What could he say?

Hannibal had been so on and off again lately that Will was almost afraid to say anything. Maybe it was best to simply leave things as they were, and try to deal with it.

He took a deep breath, looking down into his coffee cup. No, he couldn't do that. If he did, then he would be a coward, and he would regret not speaking to Hannibal about this while he had the chance. He wasn't going to back down and slink away.

No, he was going to confront this problem head-on, and they were going to talk it out. They had to. Will was sure that the future of their relationship depended on it.

"What is on your mind, Will?"

The words startled Will out of his thoughts, bringing him sharply back to the present moment. He set his coffee cup down, clearing his throat, but still having no idea of just ho to start the conversation, of what he was going to say.

He didn't want to make it sound as though he was annoyed, because he wasn't. He was simply confused -- and more than a little hurt by Hannibal's attitude.

If he said that he was hurt, then he would have to explain exactly why, and Hannibal might snort at that explanation and hurt his feelings even further.

But it was a chance he had to take. If Hannibal disregarded his feelings about the situation, then he wasn't the man who Will should be with, in spite of his feelings. Will took a deep breath, opened his mouth, and then found that the words were pouring out.

"What's wrong with us, Hannibal?" 

That was all he could say for a few moments; the look on Hannibal's face was somewhere between surprise and disbelief, as though he hadn't heard Will correctly.

"I wasn't aware that there was anything wrong with us, Will." Hannibal's voice was soft and soothing, the voice that he used to calm down patients when they appeared to be getting out of control. It wasn't a voice that Will wanted to hear directed at himself.

"Then you haven't been paying attention to us," Will said, unable to stop now that he'd started speaking. "I don't think there's anything particularly _right_ about us at the moment."

Hannibal folded his hands, obviously waiting for Will to finish talking.

"We're just .... on and off again," he managed to say, feeling tears start to clog his throat. "Or at least, you are. It's like I don't .... mean anything to you. Like I'm just a distraction."

Hannibal sighed softly, shaking his head. "Will, if you think that you are just a distraction to me, then you're very wrong. You mean more to me than I can put into words -- though I know that sometimes I don't show it very well. Please, try to bear with me."

Will nodded, blinking back the tears that were threatening more than ever to spill over. He would do as his lover asked, but he still had misgivings.

"Why do you push me away so much of the time?" he whispered, his voice breaking on the last words. "It's killing me, Hannibal. It makes me feel like I'm nothing but a game to you, that I'm not important. Sometimes I feel like you're just toying with me."

Hannibal shook his head again, reaching for Will's hand, then seemingly changing his mind and drawing it back. He got to his feet, moving to stand by Will's chair.

With one quick movement, he pulled the young man up from the chair and into his arms.

Will only had time to register the desire burning in Hannibal's gaze before the other man's lips were on his, his arms crushing Will close against him. Will gasped against Hannibal's mouth, his legs weakening, his arms sliding around Hannibal's waist to support himself.

"If that felt as though I'm toying with you, Will, then you have a great deal to learn about me -- and about what I want," Hannibal murmured against his lips.

Moments later, Hannibal was leading him through the house and up the stairs; Will knew that they were headed towards the bedroom, and that they would make love. He only hoped that this time, there would be no on and off again -- and that they would stay on forever


	14. Crumbling Barriers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal realizes that he may have to make some changes in his relationship with Will.

So Will seemed to think that they were having problems.

Hannibal hadn't viewed their relationship in that way; he had assumed that Will had no problems with the nature of how they were with each other. However, it now seemed that Will wanted more -- so perhaps it was time for things to change a bit.

Perhaps the dynamics of their relationship needed to change. Will needed to feel that he had a bit more control, and Hannibal would give him that illusion.

Of course, it wouldn't be the truth. He would never relinquish control of any situation, especially not to the man he was involved with, the man who should be kept under his dominion at all times. But Will wouldn't know that. He would only see what he was allowed to see.

He wouldn't realize that his control was only an illusion.

He'd have to tread carefully to give Will that impression, of course. He would have to put up a few barriers, walls that could be pulled back down over time.

Changes would have to be made. He wouldn't be able to continue his little cat-and-mouse game with Will, that game he so enjoyed of pulling Will close to him and then holding him at arm's length again. He would have to let Will get closer.

Or would he only have to make Will _think_ that he was getting closer? Hannibal narrowed his eyes as he silently led the young man up the stairs and down the hallway towards his bedroom. Did he _want_ to take the risk of letting Will in, however briefly?

He'd already made that choice, Hannibal realized with a clarity of thought that almost made him catch his breath. He had already let Will in.

That change had already been made, before he had realized it.

Will was more to him than just a body to fuck, more to him than a simple mind game. Somehow, Will had managed to become the center of his thoughts -- possibly even the center of his life. And certainly the center of his heart.

How could he not have known this had happened? How could he not have seen the changes taking place? But he hadn't, and now he had to deal with them.

Now wasn't the right time to deal with those changes, Hannibal told himself. Now was the time to let Will feel that he was in control, but only slightly. To let him feel that the barriers between them were falling, to let him build up a bit of self-confidence.

And perhaps some of those barriers actually _would_ crumble.


	15. Hear Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are times when Will thinks that Hannibal doesn't hear his words -- or his heart.

Sometimes he wondered if Hannibal really heard what he said.

Was his lover only taking him to bed now because of what he'd said about them seeming to run so hot and cold in the physical sense? Or had he heard the deeper plea in Will's voice, the plea for them to become closer in ways that had nothing to do with sex?

Yes, he wanted to be close to Hannibal in a sexual way. That was something he'd craved ever since their first kiss, the first time they'd touched.

But he wanted more than just sexual intimacy. He wanted a closeness with Hannibal that came from not just shared bodies, but shared hearts. And even though he knew that Hannibal cared for him, sometimes he wondered if they shared that kind of closeness.

They were close in a lot of ways. But somehow, he didn't think they shared that kind of soul bond, the bond he so desperately wanted.

Or did they? There were times when Hannibal seemed to know what he was thinking, times when his lover seemed to see right through him directly into his soul. Maybe they _did_ share that kind of a bond, even though he didn't feel it all the time.

Like now, when he needed to feel it the most.

Why couldn't he feel that bond? Why did he feel that what they were headed upstairs to do was something that would only touch their bodies, not their hearts and souls? Why did he feel that Hannibal listened to him, but didn't really _hear_ him?

Will stopped walking up the stairs, standing halfway up, one hand on the railing. He wondered if Hannibal would even notice that he wasn't still following.

He did. Hannibal took a few more steps, then turned around, a frown on his face. "Will? Is something wrong? Did you forget something downstairs, or outside in your car perhaps?" His voice was soft, but Will could hear the annoyance underlying the words.

He didn't want to hear that sound in Hannibal's voice. He hated that tone.

But he didn't know how to avoid it, or how to make it disappear. It felt as though he'd somehow lost his connection to Hannibal; he loved the other man with all of his heart and soul, but it felt as though a barrier had grown up between them, once that he didn't know how to bring down.

Where had that barrier come from? He didn't know, and neither did he know how to scale it. He didn't know how to fight against the forces that seemed ranged against him.

But he had to fight, if he wanted to keep Hannibal. That was obvious. He didn't want to let his lover slip away from him, or turn to someone else. He wanted them to find that closeness that he was searching for, to find it and hold onto it and never let go.

How could he tell Hannibal that in words that made sense?

"You don't hear me." The words came out of his mouth unbidden, without him thinking about them. "You're drifting away from me even when we're together."

"Hear you?" Hannibal's brows drew together in perplexity; it was obvious to Will that his lover really didn't understand what he meant. "Will, we talk all the time. We have psychiatric sessions, and I listen to you very carefully. Of course I hear you."

Will shook his head, sighing, wishing that he could get how he felt across in some eloquent speech. But he simply didn't have the words within him.

"No, that's not what I mean," he said, feeling frustrated. "I mean that you don't _hear_ me. Not what I say out loud. You don't hear my heart. My soul. How I feel inside."

Hannibal came swiftly down the stairs, taking Will's chin in his hand and lifting the young man's face to his. Though they were now standing on the same stair, Will still had to look up at Hannibal; he was struck by how their stance reflected their positions in each other's lives.

He was subservient to Hannibal. He always would be, and in some ways -- in most ways -- he was utterly comfortable with that. He didn't want to take charge.

But he wanted his lover to _hear_ him. To hear his heart, as he'd said.

"I cannot know how you feel inside unless you impart that information to me, Will," Hannibal said, his voice quiet as his gaze searched Will's face. "I would dearly love to know how you feel. But there are barriers you put up between us. I can't knock them down by myself."

With a shock, Will realized that Hannibal's words were true. Yes, there were barriers between them. But they were barriers of his own making.

 _He_ was the one who had put those barriers in place, to protect his heart. And as their relationship had grown into something more than friendship, more than doctor and patient, and they had become lovers, he had forgotten to let those barriers fall.

He had only himself to blame for feeling that Hannibal didn't hear him.

With those barriers in place, Hannibal _couldn't_ hear him. He only told his lover what he wanted him to hear; he couldn't expect Hannibal to read his mind or search his soul. He hadn't given the other man his permission to do so.

Hannibal would never try to delve into his mind without that permission. it was something that he himself had to grant. He had to let Hannibal hear him.

"You can't hear me because I haven't let you," he whispered, trying to wrap his mind around the revelation that had just burst into his consciousness. "I have to be the one to let those barriers down. I never realized that before. I'm the one who's been holding us back."

Hannibal shook his head, a soft smile on his lips.

"No, my sweet," he said softly, his words breaking into Will's thoughts. "I wouldn't say that you have held us back. Rather, you have only made the time that we spend getting to know each other stretch into a much longer time that it might have been."

Will nodded slowly, wondering if Hannibal was right. Maybe what he'd done -- albeit unconsciously -- had been a good thing. They didn't need to learn each other too quickly.

He would have to be the one who let those walls down, who let Hannibal in. He had to _let_ his lover hear him, rather than holding back his innermost feelings. He had thought that he was letting them out, but he really hadn't been.

The only time those feelings had come out was when they were making love. And they had been expressed in actions, not in words.

"From now on, I'll let you hear me," Will said softly, his gaze never wavering from Hannibal's face. "I'll say what I mean -- and I'll let you hear my heart, Hannibal. I won't be afraid to let you see everything I feel. I'll let you know everything. I just need to hear what I say."

Hannibal nodded, his expression serious. "I will. Even when you don't say it in so many words."

Will nodded, knowing that his lover would keep his word. Hannibal _would_ hear the voice of his heart, no matter how it was expressed. He just had to be sure to keep those barriers from going back up again, and keep his heart open for Hannibal to hear it.

When Hannibal turned to head back up the steps, taking Will's hand as he did so, Will followed him, his step more eager than it had been before. This would be a night of intimacy -- and he was sure that when his heart spoke, this time, Hannibal would hear him loud and clear.


	16. Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will doesn't want Hannibal to feel pressured into moving forward with their relationship.

Will frowned as he gazed into the flickering embers of the fire, steepling his fingers under his chin as Hannibal often did and trying to collect his thoughts. There was a lot on his mind, and he wanted to sort it all through before he saw his lover again.

Was he pressuring Hannibal too much? Was he making it seem as though their relationship should be the most important priority in Hannibal's life?

That wasn't something he wanted to do. He didn't want the man he loved to feel pressured into being with him. He wanted Hannibal to be with him of his own free will because he wanted to. Because he was loved, not because his lover felt some obligation to him.

He knew what it was like to be pressured.

Not in that way, of course. No one had ever pressured him sexually, for any reason. But he knew what it was like to be pressured in other ways, especially at work. And he didn't want to put the same kind of pressure on Hannibal that he'd been made to feel.

It wasn't comfortable, and it wasn't something he wanted to do to another person, especially someone that he loved. He wouldn't do it. He'd make sure that he didn't.

But it was _so hard_ not to want more than what they had at the moment. It felt as though they were pulling away from each other lately, not drawing closer. He kept telling himself that it was just the normal ebb and flow of a relationship, but maybe he was wrong.

After all, what did he know about relationships? He'd never been in one before this. He'd never even had a proper date, not really. He'd never been social.

So how the hell did he know what was going on? And more importantly, how did he avoid putting pressure on Hannibal for their relationship to be kicked up a notch? How did he push them forward just a little bit without tipping them over the edge?

Hannibal was much better at this than he was.

His lover was good at steering him into situations without making him feel pressured. Will didn't consider it manipulation; Hannibal simply guided him to where he needed to be.

But he was bad at it. He couldn't even move a conversation in the direction he wanted it to go in a smooth, unobtrusive way. So what the hell made him think that he could somehow steer their relationship into the path that he wanted it to take?

And why did he think that he might be able to do it without making Hannibal feel pressured? He knew that he couldn't. He wasn't the one with a talent in that area.

He never tried to pressure anyone into anything. He didn't like the feeling when people tried that with him, the way that Jack was doing at work.

So he didn't want to pressure Hannibal. He simply didn't know how to bring up the subject of their waning sexual relationship without making his lover feel that he was being too demanding, asking for too much. He didn't want to seem needy. And he didn't want to beg.

Maybe the best thing to do was simply to talk to Hannibal about it, honestly and openly, tell his lover how he felt and lay his cards directly on the table.

Though that could possibly be the worst thing to do.

That might not make Hannibal feel pressured, but it might annoy him -- and there was the possibility that he could decide he'd had enough of their relationship and turn away from Will. Which would bring his entire world crumbling to the ground.

The last thing he wanted was to jeopardize their relationship in any way. And pressuring Hannibal could not only do that, it could destroy their relationship.

Or would it? Would Hannibal understand that he didn't mean to put a lot of pressure on him, but that he wanted more than what they currently seemed to have? Would it be worth sitting down and talking about it, just for his own peace of mind?

It probably would, Will told himself. After all, Hannibal was a calm, rational man. He wouldn't jump to any unwarranted conclusions about the two of them.

And with any luck, he wouldn't feel pressured. Will could explain that pressure wasn't what this was about, that he simply wanted to move things forward. If Hannibal couldn't understand, then nobody could. Hannibal was the kind of person who seemed to understand everything.

Besides, if they couldn't talk openly and honestly, they didn't have much of a relationship anyway.

He wasn't going to pressure Hannibal. He was merely going to talk to his lover about how he felt, what he wanted and needed from their relationship. It would be up to Hannibal as to whether or not he was willing to give him those things.

If he wasn't, well, then they would have to either go their separate ways, or he would have to learn how to sublimate his needs until they could be fulfilled.

Will sighed softly, closing his eyes and letting himself sink back into the comfortable cushions of the couch. He was good at sublimating. That was one thing that he knew he _could_ do. He just hoped that he wouldn't have to do it for very much longer.


	17. Lonely Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal finds the nights that Will doesn't spend with him to be lonelier than he'd realized.

The nights felt terribly long and lonely without Will here.

Hannibal sighed, leaning back on the couch and putting down the book he'd been reading. He would much rather be with Will, his young lover sharing his bed, than sitting here alone with a book, but he hadn't felt that they should spend every night together.

Perhaps that had been a mistake. The nights were increasingly long for him without Will to keep him company, and he was sure that Will felt the same.

Briefly, he toyed with the idea of getting in his car and driving to Wolf Trap, but that would be silly. It was after ten o'clock at night, after all, and by the time he got there, it would be long after eleven. Will would need to get his rest, as he had to work tomorrow.

They both needed their rest. That was a priority.

Of course, that didn't mean that they couldn't see each other. They would simply have to limit their time together to nights when the next day held no responsibilities.

That thought brought another sigh to his lipe; there weren't many nights when neither of them had to deal with responsibilities on the following day. He really should change that dictum; it made seeing Will on any given weeknight nearly impossible.

They had their sessions, yes, but that wasn't private time. They could talk about personal matters then, but Will rarely wanted to.

Strange, how getting him to open up and talk about his innermost feelings was still so difficult to do. He'd opened up only so far, then he would slam those doors closed again, hiding behind them. It was harder than Hannibal had expected to make those barriers crumble.

But he could do it. That might take some time and patience, but he was sure that he could eventually make the walls of Will's stubborn mind vaporize into dust.

He would get inside that beautiful mind, just as he had that gorgeous body.

Will wasn't completely his. Not yet. He was all too aware of that fact. But Will _would_ be his. He would bet quite a lot on that fact. He could be stealthy and patient, and he would slowly push the young man towards the outcome he wanted.

Was that ethical? No, of course not. But Hannibal didn't bother much with ethics when there was a desire he wanted to fulfill. And he desired Will Graham.

No, it wasn't simply desire, he told himself. It was a deep-seated _need_ that he had to possess this young man, to make Will his in every way, entirely and completely. He wouldn't rest until he knew that he had Will exactly where he wanted him.

Yes, it would take a lot of nights together to accomplish that goal -- and quite a lot of sessions, as well. He would have to work to bring Will's mind to where he wanted it to be; it might not be easy to train that mind to think in the circles that Hannibal for it to.

But he _would_ be successful, at some point. He was confident that no one could hold out against his wiles -- least of all a man who wanted him.

Will's desire for him gave him a definite advantage. However, his own desire for Will muddied the waters just a bit. Was his own desire getting in the way of what he wanted to achieve with Will? Had this young man become less of an experiment, and more of a .... lover?

Of course they were lovers. He just hadn't intended for it to get ... emotional.

It was strange to think that he'd fallen so hard for Will. He'd never intended for that to happen when he had first decided to take the young man to his bed.

But somehow, it had been .... inevitable. He couldn't imagine his life now without Will being a part of it; it was as though his young lover had somehow made himself indispensable without really trying to do so. if he _had_ been trying, then Hannibal hadn't realized it.

No, he didn't think that Will had tried. He was sure that these strong feelings, this wild attraction, had been as much of a surprise to Will as they were to him.

And he was sure that the nights they spent together, locked in each other's arms, sharing their bodies, had come to mean just as much to Will as they did to him. He didn't doubt that Will was in love with him; and now, he had to admit that he felt the same.

Love. It wasn't something that he'd thought he could feel. He hadn't been expecting it, but welcomed or not, it had come to him.

Did he welcome it? A part of him did. Another wasn't sure.

Knowing that what he felt was love complicated matters. He didn't want to confess to Will that he harbored those feelings; that would give Will too much control over their relationship, a control that he definitely didn't want his young lover to wield.

Though he couldn't help feeling that if he didn't confess at least part of his feelings to Will, he could end up pushing his boyfriend away and losing him forever.

That wasn't an option. The thought of losing Will filled him with a bleak despair such a he had never known before; he couldn't let this young man slip through his fingers and out of his life. Not when he had so much more to teach Will, so much more to experience with him.

Perhaps he would have to make a few confessions, then.

Those confessions wouldn't come too soon, though. He would have to gauge just how far he could push Will; he'd have to discover when the right time to say those words would be.

He wanted Will to _need_ those words, wanted him to beg for them. And then he would say them, in a voice that would tell Will he was sincere. And he was, Hannibal told himself. He _did_ love Will. It was just hard for him to admit that much.

One of these nights, when the time was right, after he had made love to Will, he would look into those blue eyes and confess his love. Openly and honestly.

Though he didn't think that night would come any time soon.


	18. Watcher in the Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is shaken to realize that someone is watching him while he's walking in the woods with the dogs.

He loved being in the woods.

There was something peaceful about being here alone, Will thought, looking around him and heaving a deep sigh of contentment.

He had no fear of the woods; at least, not the ones around his house. He had explored every inch of them at some time or other; he knew all of the trails, all of the paths. They weren't really thick woods, either; only the ones behind the house were wild and overgrown.

And those were a good distance from his home. He didn't have to worry about anything sneaking out of them to attack him.

The thought made him shudder.

Will pushed the thought away, determined not to let it put a damper on his day. He intended to enjoy the free afternoon wandering in the woods with the dogs.

Well, only two of the dogs, he amended, reaching down to pat both Winston and Vincent. The two of them had wanted to come out; the other four had stayed inside where it was warm, content to doze on their blankets and play with their chew toys.

These two dogs really seemed to enjoy these outings, so Will took them out as much as he could, even though he couldn't make himself stay out long.

After all, as much as he enjoyed the woods and considered himself a nemophilist, it _was_ the dead of winter, and having been born and raised in the much warmer climate of Louisiana, he got cold easily. He wondered sometimes why he had moved here.

He answered that question quickly in his mind. He had moved here because he'd wanted to work for the FBI. There hadn't really been another option.

And for the most part, he really enjoyed living in Wolf Trap.

The only thing he didn't like was that it was so far away from Hannibal. His boyfriend was over an hour away in Baltimore. Much, much too far.

There were times when he thought of moving to Baltimore, but he always discarded the idea. He didn't think he'd like living in the middle of the city; he hadn't liked it when he'd been a cop in New Orleans and had an apartment in the French Quarter.

He preferred living out here in the country, where he could be solitary and do his own thing. He had privacy out here, a kind of privacy that he would never have in the city. He couldn't give this up, not even to be closer to his boyfriend.

Hannibal understood that. Hannibal knew how he felt about his home, about his peace of mind. He wouldn't insist that they live closer to each other.

Winston lifted his head as though he was scenting, then barked loudly.

Will turned around, his gaze searching the woods. He knew what Winston had sensed; he could feel it, too, more acutely than he'd ever believed he would.

Someone ws watching him. It was as though there were eyes all around, boring into him, watching his every move and noting exactly what he did. It was a frightening feeling, knowing that he was no longer safe in the woods he loved, so close to his own home.

If there was a watcher in the woods, then he shouldn't be out here alone, with only two dogs for company. He should call the local police.

But that wouldn't do much good, would it? After all, he was an FBI agent, and most of the local cops knew that. They would expect him to be able to take care of himself, even if there was some sort of dangerous person stalking him near the safety of his home.

Other people coped with stalkers, Will thought, straightening his shoulders and taking a deep breath. Why couldn't he? And he might even be wrong.

Maybe it was a figment of his imagination. Maybe nobody was there.

But the actions of the dogs told a different story. Vincent and Winston were both stock-still, not growling yet, but obviously on the verge of doing so.

Will sighed softly, knowing that they needed to head back to the house and keep themselves safely inside. He wasn't imagining things. There _was_ someone watching him, and the thought made him feel more uneasy than he could say.

His nemophilist leanings might have to be put on hold for a while. He didn't feel that he could enjoy these woods any longer.

With a sigh, he turned to head for home, hoping that he wouldn't be followed.


	19. Inadequate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will can't help but wonder if he's living at too remote a distance from Hannibal.

Will peered out through the curtains, his gaze searching the woods.

No, there didn't seem to be anyone out there. And he didn't have the feeling any more that he was being watched. But he couldn't shake the feeling that there _had_ been someone out there, someone whose eyes were on him, their faze following his every move.

He knew that he wasn't wrong. A shudder shook his body as he let the curtain fall back into place and went to sit on the couch, his hands starting to tremble.

 _Someone_ had been there in the woods, watching him. And that fact made him feel even more isolated and remote from the rest of the world than he usually did. It wasn't a feeling that he enjoyed, and for felt like the millionth time, he wondered why he lived here.

It wasn't that he didn't like his house. No, he loved it.

But he had to admit, it _was_ remote. The closest house to his was over a mile away, and if there was ever a time when he needed help, it wouldn't be forthcoming.

He was too far away from anyone else to expect any help, should he need it. That thought in itself was enough to make him shiver; as much as he loved his home, it hadn't really dawned on him until now that he might have put himself in a dangerous position by living here.

But he didn't want to move into the city of Vienna, or anywhere else, just so he could feel as though there were more people around if he needed them.

No, he treasured his solitude. He'd always been a person who liked his privacy; moving away from this remote location would only make him miserable.

If he lived in the city, in Vienna or even closer to Quantico or DC, then there would only be _more_ eyes around to see into his business, Will thought with a sigh. That wasn't what he wanted. What he _did_ want was to be able to feel .... well, safer.

Maybe this sudden need for safety was something he and Hannibal needed to discuss in their next session, he thought, a wry smile twisting his lips.

Of all the subjects they touched on, his safety was never one of them.

Why was that? he mused. They'd talked about things like that long ago, before they had become lovers, when they were both still desperately trying to pretend that they only viewed each other as friends. But now, those kinds of subjects felt as if they were forbidden.

Probably because Hannibal felt some kind of need to protect him, and knowing that Will didn't feel safe in his own home would only make him feel .... inadequate.

Will had to smile at the idea of Hannibal Lecter feeling inadequate about anything. There was no way _that_ would ever happen, he scoffed inwardly. Hannibal wasn't the kind of man who would ever let _anything_ make him feel as though he was failing in some way.

Or was he wrong? _Could_ Hannibal feel that way?

Ever since these horrible murders had started, these seemingly random killings of men who looked like him, Hannibal had seemed to want to keep him closer.

Was Hannibal afraid for him? Did he feel, in some way, that his protection was inadequate? Did he fear for his lover's safety? Will had to wonder about that, but he didn't feel that it was something he could simply come out and ask Hannibal directly.

Hannibal wasn't the sort of man who talked about his weaknesses -- and Will knew that a failure to protect his lover would be seen as a weakness.

His boyfriend had often hinted that he would like for Will to be closer to him than a little over an hour's drive away, but Will couldn't bring himself to move to Baltimore.

If he was there, then he would be further from his job at the FBI Academy -- and it would be harder for Jack to reach him if he was needed on a case quickly, he had argued. It wouldn't be any more convenient for anyone than him living in Wolf trap was.

And actually, when it came to the question of distance from his job, Wolf Trap was actually closer, he thought with a sigh. Who would have thought that this place would be close to anything?

Of course, there were other reasons why he liked his remote location.

He liked the fact that no one could bother him here; most people at the FBI only had some vague notion of where he lived. They knew that his address wa Wolf Trap, but they didn't have the foggiest notion of how to find his house. And Will liked it that way.

He didn't want people to be able to find him easily. His boyfriend, his boss, and a few choice friends knew where he lived. No one else needed to know.

But now, he was starting to wonder if that was such a good idea. If there _was_ someone watching him, being in such a remote location, with anyone who could help him at least a mile away -- if they were even home at the time -- seemed more dangerous than soothing.

He loved his home here. But it might not be the best place for him to be now.

For a few moments, he considered closing the house, finding someone to take care of the dogs for a while, and staying with Hannibal in Baltimore.

It wouldn't be that hard to do -- but he wasn't sure that he wanted it. He liked things as they stood; he was comfortable with the status quo of his relationship with Hannibal. Staying with him, admitting that he wasn't comfortable in his own home, would change a lot of things.

It would make him far more dependent on Hannibal than he wanted to be, and even though he loved the man he was involved with, he wasn't ready for that yet.

Their relationship was at a point where they might need to make some choices, and becoming closer in more than just an emotional way was one of them.

He wasn't ready to admit that it might be time for them to take a few steps further into their relationship. He wanted things to stay as they were now, even if he was living at a fairly remote distance from his boyfriend and, in some ways, keeping them at arm's length.

He had no idea what Hannibal might think. Maybe it was something else they should discuss during their next session, only two days from now.

He would see Hannibal on a personal basis before they'd actually have a session.

That thought brought a smile to his face, in spite of all that he was feeling at the moment. Just thinking about his boyfriend made him feel less remote, less isolated. Suddenly, it didn't seem to matter that Hannibal was over an hour away in Baltimore.

It felt as though he was right here, next to Will. All he had to do was to think about the man he loved, and he could feel Hannibal's concern and care wrapping around him.

He didn't have to be right there with Hannibal to feel safe and secure, but maybe it _would_ be a good idea to spend some time there in Hannibal's home, at least until they had a more clear idea of who might be watching Will's home.

He would start the wheels in motion to do that as soon as possible.


	20. Headlong Into Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will isn't sure whether or not he should reveal his fears to Hannibal.

Now that he was here, in Hannibal's house, he didn't want to talk.

Will squirmed in the chair that he always sat in during their psychiatric sessions, feeling uncomfortable. Even though they weren't in a session, and he was just talking to Hannibal, he felt even more wary than when the other man had first tried to probe into his thoughts.

He didn't want to admit that he had a weakness, much less that said weakness was being alone in his house at night and feeling that he was being watched.

Looking back at last night, it seemed so silly to him now. There hadn't been anyone outside his house. He wasn't being watched. He was letting his paranoia take him over, for some weird reason. He was letting his inner fears run away with him.

He couldn't keep doing that. Not if he wanted to hold on to his sanity.

He had to get past this, had to convince Hannibal that he was all right, that nothing had happened at his house just last night. He had to convince _himself_ that he wasn't losing his mind, that he wasn't giving in to his own fears.

He couldn't let those fears be his weakness. If he did, then they would win, and they would slowly start to take him over, and drive him insane.

He wasn't going to let that happen, Will told himself firmly. He wasn't going to give in to his fears. He would fight all the way to the bitter end, if need be.

"Will, I know something is wrong." Hannibal's calm, precise voice cut into his thoughts, making his gaze snap back to the man sitting across from him. "You wouldn't be looking so nervous and tense if it wasn't. I think you should tell me what's bothering you."

Should he tell Hannibal? Or would it all sound crazy if he did?

Will took a deep breath, ready to let the words spill out, to put this burden on Hannibal's shoulders, or at least to let the other man share it. But the words clogged in his throat; he couldn't speak them aloud. He couldn't admit to his own weakness.

Instead, he only shook his head, murmuring, "No, nothing's wrong. Just stressed from work, and feeling a little overworked. That's all, really."

He couldn't admit his weakness to Hannibal. He couldn't leave himself open to ridicule, or let Hannibal talk him out of what he was feeling. He was going to have to with this himself, and either overcome his fears, or face them head-on, on his own.

He just hoped that he was making the right decision, and not running headlong into danger.


	21. Too Many Mistakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal feels that Will is becoming more remote and detached from him lately.

It felt as though Will was growing more remote from him with each passing day.

Hannibal sighed softly, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. The young man had left only a few moments ago, saying that he needed to get back to Wolf Trap, and obviously in a hurry to leave. Hannibal had let him go, deeming it best.

If Will didn't want to talk to him, then they were going to run into many more problems in the future, he thought with another sigh, this one louder.

This wasn't working out well. He couldn't very well tell Will that it had been _him_ outside the house in Wolf Trap; that would only make him feel as though he was being watched, and make him back further away from their developing relationship.

That wasn't what Hannibal wanted. Not at all.

He wanted Will to move closer to him, not run in the opposite direction. And watching his house wasn't a way of stalking him. That hadn't been his intention.

He had wanted to feel that he was watching over Will, protecting him. He hadn't intended to make his young lover paranoid, or make him feel that he was being stalked. Apparently his plan had backfired, and he didn't want to tell Will what he'd done.

If Will knew that _he_ was the one who had followed him through the woods, then he probably wouldn't feel comfortable in their relationship any longer.

Hannibal rubbed at his eyes, wishing that they could simply rewind and start things over from the first night that he had decided to watch Will's house, just to be sure that his boyfriend was safe. If only they could go back to that point, this mess wouldn't have happened.

Well, no, if he was honest with himself, he hadn't been there _just_ to protect Will. There had been other reasons that he wasn't proud of.

He had wanted to make sure that Will was alone.

All right, so it wasn't a motivation to be particularly proud of. But he had been suspicious of just why Will always seemed to want to spend most of his nights at home in Wolf Trap, instead of in a much nicer, more comfortable house in Baltimore.

He had satisfied himself that Will simply enjoyed his solitude and probably wasn't ready for more than a part-time relationship. That wasn't the problem.

The problem was that once he had begun watching Will's house, he couldn't seem to stop. He hadn't been able to keep himself from going back, from hiding in the woods and using his binoculars to look into the house as much as he could.

He wasn't proud of that, but neither was he ashamed of it.

It had begun with him being curious as to just why his boyfriend preferred to spend most nights at his own home, and it had snowballed from there.

He couldn't deny that he _did_ want to make sure that Will was safe and protected. That _was_ part of his reason for hiding in the woods. But it had gone too far the day that Will had gone walking with his dogs, and Hannibal had decided to follow him.

That had been a definite tactical error. He shouldn't have done it, and he'd known that he was making the mistake even as he'd gone through with it.

But somehow, he hadn't been able to stop himself. He had _wanted_ to follow Will, to see just what he did when he went for those woodland walks.

Instead, he had only ended up making the young man more paranoid, nervous, and cautious. In some ways, maybe that was a good thing, he told himself. Will would be more careful now on his solitary walks in the woods; he would be more alert for people around him.

He would be able to keep himself more safe and protected, which certainly wasn't a bad thing. But it would curtail Hannibal's surveillance of him.

He didn't want to take the chance of Will seeing him in the woods.

The main problem that all this had caused was that now, Will seemed more remote from him, even when they were in the same room together. Hannibal didn't like this, not at all. He had wanted to bring Will closer, not send him skittering away.

This had all backfired terribly, and he had no idea of how to fix it. Now he would have to start over with Will, coaxing him nearer and forestalling his fears.

He hadn't wanted that to happen, but it was too late to change things now. The damage had been done, and there was no way to undo it. He couldn't very well tell Will that _he_ was the person who had been following him through the woods.

Confessing what he'd done would only push Will further away.

It was bad enough that his young lover had started to become more remote because of this. He would have to work to get Will back to the point where he'd been before.

This really wasn't what he'd wanted at all, Hannibal thought with a frown. But how was he going to set things to rights again? He couldn't make a clean breast of it, couldn't confess his actions to Will. All he could do was try to move them forward from here.

Will was more remote from him now than he had been when this had all first started, and he had resisted the very idea of talking with a psychiatrist.

If he knew that Hannibal was watching him, if he'd known that it was Hannibal in the woods, then he would not only be remote, he would more than likely remove himself from Hannibal's presence permanently. Their relationship would be at an end.

No, that couldn't be allowed to happen. He wasn't going to let Will go. Will Graham _belonged_ to him, whether the younger man was ready to admit that or not.

Will wasn't going to be allowed to slip away.

He might be more remote now, but Hannibal would bring him back, little by little. There had been times lately when Will seemed to think that they were growing apart -- he would have to let his young lover know that wasn't the case.

He had been a bit standoffish here and there, in an attempt to bring Will closer to him, to make him move nearer. That had obviously been another mistake.

He'd made far too many mistakes in dealing with Will lately, Hannibal told himself with a frown. That would have to stop. He was going to be more careful from now on, be sure that Will wouldn't become even more remote. He would have to reel the young man in gently but firmly.

A smile came to his face as he thought of how he could begin to do just that.


	22. Dangerous Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will doesn't know what's more dangerous, the stalker who might be watching him, or the words that Hannibal utters about his safety.

"Will, it's dangerous for you to walk in the woods by yourself." Hannibal's voice was firm, his gaze concerned. "Not until you know who was following you."

Will shook his head, frowning at the other man. "Nobody's followed me since that one day. Unless they're very quiet about it, and I don't think that's possible. Not in those woods. Besides, I've always had a couple of the dogs with me, and they'd know."

"Be that as it may, I don't want you harmed."

Hannibal actually sounded _worried_ about him, Will thought, raising his eyebrows. Ever since he'd told his lover about being followed, Hannibal had been .... solicitous.

No, more than that. He'd actually been worried, admonishing Will about doing things that could get him hurt, and telling him that he had to look after himself better. He hadn't really expected this level of care, not from Hannibal.

He knew that Hannibal cared about him. Of course he did. They wouldn't be lovers if there wasn't some kind of caring on Hannibal's part.

But lately, he'd felt himself backing away from Hannibal, feeling that there wasn't something quite _right_ about their relationship. He didn't know why, but there was something off about them, something that didn't feel safe to him.

Why should he feel that way about his lover? Will was at a loss; he couldn't explain where that feeling came from. He just knew that it was there.

It was a feeling that he wasn't at all comfortable with.

He'd been worried before that Hannibal was drawing away from him, and now it seemed like things were the other way around. _He_ was now the one backing off.

He had no reason to, Will told himself. Not really. Just this strange feeling that there was something hidden under the surface of Hannibal's demeanor, something that he wasn't showing Will. And whatever it was made Will uneasy and wary.

He wanted to shake off this feeling, to push it away and tell himself that things were going back to normal between the two of them. But he couldn't.

For some reason, the feeling persisted, and he couldn't shake it off.

Why did he feel uneasy around Hannibal now? He shoudln't, he told himself. This man was his lover. He wanted their relationship to stay on firm, solid ground.

Why did he feel as though that ground was shifting beneath him, as though things were changing between them? Will didn't like that feeling; he had thought that when he and Hannibal became involved, his life would be more stable, more secure.

Instead, it seemed as though his life was starting to spin out of control again, as though there were things happening in the background that he couldn't control.

He shouldn't feel that way. There was no reason to. Hannibal had given him no reasons for distrust; he didn't know why he was feeling so uncomfortable lately.

It just seemed that there was something hiding behind those eyes, something dangerous that could jump out at him any moment. There was something in the air whenever he was around Hannibal, something that made him cautious, made him draw back.

Will hated that feeling. He hated knowing that there was some sort of barrier between the two of them that he apparently couldn't break down.

There shouldn't be any barriers between lovers.

"It's far too dangerous for you to walk in the woods alone, even with the dogs for protection," Hannibal told him, his tone faintly scolding. "Don't do it again, Will."

"What, I'm supposed to stay locked up in my house all the time, afraid to go outside?" Will shook his head, frowning. "I'm not going to do that, Hannibal. I'm not going to stop living my life, or being afraid to live it. I'm not going to let some unknown person get to me like that."

"The unknown factor is what I'm worried about." Hannibal sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and studying Will. "You could stay here for a while."

Only a few weeks ago, that offer would have made him jump for joy.

But now, given the new turn in their relationship, he only felt wary, wondering why Hannibal was suddenly so concerned about his safety.

Somehow, it felt .... well, _suspect_. Hannibal hadn't seemed this worried about him before, and the fact that his worries seemed belated only made Will wonder if he knew more than he was saying about that stalker in the woods.

Could Hannibal possibly have some idea who it was? If he did, then he obviously didn't want to tell Will, or he would have done so already.

Slowly, Will shook his head, not knowing exactly why he didn't want to stay with Hannibal on a regular basis, but knowing that he couldn't. "No, I think it's best if I stay at home except for the few nights I spend here. It just doesn't feel right for me not to be there."

"Will, promise me that you at least won't go walking in the woods after dark," Hannibal said. "You know that could be dangerous for anyone."

Will was forced to agree with that; on this issue, Hannibal was right.

It wasn't safe for anyone to walk in the woods alone at night, even with dogs by their side. He'd been foolish to think that he was the exception to the rule.

He was used to dangerous situations, but this was one that could easily spiral out of control if he was the least bit careless. And if someone _was_ stalking him in the woods, and possibly keeping an eye on his home as well, he had to be more vigilant.

"I'm used to being in danger, Hannibal," he finally said with a soft sigh. "But if it'll make you feel better, I'll stop walking in the woods at night. And I'll be more careful."

Hannibal nodded, a small smile quirking his lips.

"It _would_ make me feel a great deal better, Will," he said softly. "I would be devastated if anything happened to you, as you should well know by now. The last thing I want is to see you harmed, and I believe that deep within yourself, you're aware of that fact."

Those words sounded so sincere, but they still left Will feeling uneasy. He had the definite feeling that those words, obviously meant to be soothing, were more dangerous than they might seem.


	23. The Greatest Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The greatest weakness of all isn't what he feels, it's the fact that he needs to say those words.

Will was his weakness.

It was dangerous to have weaknesses in the armor that he wore. He'd never had a weakness before he had met Will; this relationship had changed everything.

It would be far too easy to let things spill to Will that he knew he could never tell anyone. In fact, it was getting harder and harder to keep the simple fact from Will that _he_ had been the person watching Will's house. What other secrets would he eventually want to tell?

He couldn't tell any of them, Hannibal thought with a soft sigh. For Will's own good, so many secrets had to be kept. He couldn't be honest with his young lover.

If he was, that would mean losing Will for good.

Losing his lover was not an option. He was going to keep Will by his side as long as he possibly could; he had no intention of losing what he'd finally found.

Will was _his_ , in every way. He wasn't going to relinquish that claim, and if Will tried to move away from him, he would find a way to pull his young lover back to his side. Losing Will would feel far too much like losing an integral part of himself.

That was where eh weakness lay, Hannibal thought, sighing again. The fact that he didn't want to lose Will, that this young man had become so important to him.

He wasn't used to having weaknesses. He never had before, and that was why he'd been so successful in keeping his secrets for so many years.

Will could be the undoing of all that. This young man had come to be the most important thing in his life; his world would be turned upside down and inside out if Will ceased to be a part of it. He couldn't let that come to pass; he would keep Will with him any way that he could.

Love was always a weakness, wasn't it? That was why he hadn't allowed himself to feel it for so long. But with Will, it had been inevitable.

Though he couldn't allow himself to say the words aloud.

if he said the words, then they became more _real_. He'd wanted to say them, but each time he had tried, his throat had closed up and they hadn't been uttered.

Did Will want to hear those words? Did he feel the same way? Hannibal was sure that he did, but another weakness of his was that he didn't want to hear the words. They would put him under an obligation, one that he wasn't sure he was ready for.

if Will said the words, then he would have to say them back. He closed his eyes, resting his head in his hand, those three little words ringing in his ears.

 _Needing_ to say those words as much as he did was the greatest weakness of all.


	24. Explode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watching Will as they make love is the most intoxicating sight that Hannibal has ever beheld.

Hannibal looked up at the delectable body poised over his own.

Will was riding him, his eyes closed, his lips parted, his hair tousled, his cheeks flushed. Hannibal was sure that he'd never seen such a beautiful sight in his life.

Will's body was poised over his own, the young man taking Hannibal deep inside him with each downward motion of his slender body. With each movement, a groan came from Will's lips, sounding as though it was drawn from the depths of his being.

Hannibal was almost on the verge of moaning himself, which he almost never did. But just the sight of Will above him was enough to inspire that sound.

He had never seen anything so intoxicating.

Just watching Will abandon himself to the pleasure that was flowing between them was almost enough to make Hannibal let himself go far too soon.

No, he wasn't going to do that. Hannibal took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, then opening them again. He didn't want to miss even one second of this spectacle; he wanted to watch Will abandon himself fully, wanted to view every moment of that surrender.

He hadn't thought that anything could look so beautiful, or hold him so enraptured. But then, before Will had come into his life, he had been a jaded man.

He hadn't been immune to beauty, of course, but he had grown used to it. He'd thought that he had glutted himself with beauty to the point where it could no longer move him.

But that was before he had witnessed anything like this. He would never have thought that someone else putting themselves into his hands, letting him find his own pleasure by sharing themselves with him, would reawaken his senses to the power of beauty.

He had to stop himself from tumbling over the edge too quickly, had to make this pleasure, and the vision that met his eyes, last as long as it possibly could.

He moved his hand to Will's cock, fingers closing around the shaft.

Will's subsequent moan was even louder than the others had been, and this time, Hannibal's own groan of pleasure joined his lover's.

Will raised himself up again, then slid back down onto Hannibal's cock; the sheer animal pleasure of being surrounded by the heat of Will's body, like a clenching velvet vise, almost made Hannibal cry out again, but he stifled the sound into a mere gasp.

Oh, this pleasure was what they had both been meant for. This should go on forever, never stopping, only building in intensity until the two of them were ready to explode.

He was sure that the explosion would happen very, very soon.


	25. Taking Their Pleasure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will wants to make the distance that's sprung up between himself and Hannibal dissipate for good.

Nothing had ever felt like this.

He'd ridden Hannibal before, but it had never felt this .... immediate. He'd never felt as though he could do this all night, ride them both into oblivion.

Hannibal inside him, filling him, fucking him .... this was one of those moments that he lived for, one of those times when he wanted the rest of the world to simply disappear, and for this to last forever, just the two of them in this bed, locked in mutual pleasure.

No, Hannibal wasn't fucking him, he told himself as he raised himself up again, then slid slowly down onto his lover's cock. _He_ was doing the fucking.

He was using Hannibal to pleasure himself.

But that wasn't quite true either, was it? He wasn't merely pleasuring himself; he was pleasuring _both_ of them. He knew that Hannibal enjoyed this as much as he did.

Hannibal might not be moaning in pleasure, but Will could tell from the look on his face, the enraptured gaze that took in every line of his nude body as he moved slowly up and down, that Hannibal was taking just as much pleasure as he was from their coupling.

His lover simply didn't show that pleasure in words or sounds. He might stay silent, but there were ways to divine just what he was getting out of this.

WIll knew what _he_ was getting out of it; he'd never felt pleasure like this before. It seemed to seep through him, permeating not only his body, but his very soul.

This was what he had been missing out on before he'd met Hannibal and given himself to another person for the first time. He had waited so long to find this kind of union, to enjoy this much pleasure. And it had been worth every moment of that long wait.

That pleasure was taking him over now, his climax rushing to the surface with a rapidity that he hadn't been aware of, an upward surge that he couldn't stop.

He didn't want to stop it. He wanted that pleasure to break free.

When it did, he couldn't hold back another cry, one of triumph as well as pleasure. He collapsed forward onto Hannibal, unable to hold himself up any longer.

Will felt those strong, muscular arms around him, holding him close against the warmth of Hannibal's body. He instinctively buried his face in the crook where Hannibal's neck met his shoulder; he didn't want to move from this position. He just wanted to lie here forever.

There had been distance between them at some points in their relationship, but it was gone now, swept away by this blissful joining.

He hoped that taking their pleasure like this meant that the distance was gone for good.


	26. Risks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some risks, even the most dangerous ones, are worth taking.

The distance between them was gone. It had simply .... vanished.

Who would have known that such a feeling of distance could have been replaced so quickly by such fire, such passion? Will thought, smiling inwardly.

He hadn't expected that fiery explosion of lovemaking, but he was glad that it had happened. It had affirmed the closeness between the two of them, a closeness that he needed to feel. It had made him realize more than ever just how much this relationship meant to him.

Hannibal was the center of his world, and if that center fell away, he wouldn't have much of anything left. Not anything that really mattered to him, anyway.

Oh, he would still have a life, what many people might call a good one.

He would still have his work, his home, his dogs. He would still have friends, in a way, even though he never let people get _too_ close to him.

But without Hannibal, he wouldn't have love in his life; he wouldn't have someone to be with, someone who cared for him just as much as he did for them. He would be alone again, behind the wall that he'd always tried to hide himself behind, to keep himself safe.

He had always thought he was safe, too, Will reflected. Safe from being hurt, safe from his own emotions, safe from pain and fear and taking risks.

Hannibal had changed all that. Hannibal had made him realize that if he didn't take some emotional risks, then he didn't truly _live_.

Taking those risks had been frightening at first. It still was, in some ways. But the firs that flickered between the two of them, and rose higher to become a roaring conflagration whenever their bodies met, was worth taking any risk in the world for.

That fire had become the center of his being, his reason for existing. It had become a part of him, a part that he never wanted to lose.

Even when the flames rose so high that they threatened to consume him.

Those flames had certain risen to unprecedented heights last night, Will thought, blushing at the memory. The fire between himself and Hannibal had never burned so brightly.

He wanted to hold that fire close to him, even though he knew that it could be dangerous, that he could be singed or even burned. That was one of the risks of giving his heart, of becoming emotionally involved, he told himself. Bring burned was always a possibility.

But even if he was burned, somehow he was sure that the burns would be worth it. They would be his badge of honor, his proof that he had gone through the fire.

And his proof that he had managed to come out safely on the other side.


	27. From Unpromising Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal feels that he's finally ready to tell Will how he truly feels.

His relationship with Will had not really started well.

But from somewhat unpromising beginnings, they had developed into quite a contented couple, or so Hannibal thought. Their relationship had developed into something he hadn't expected.

He would have never thought he could possibly be so enamored of Will. Was he in love? Hannibal couldn't really put an answer to that question, but he would like to think that he was.

Love wasn't something that he had ever really allowed himself to feel. Not since his sister had been murdered when he was so young, which he was sure had been the catalyst for the actions he'd taken over the rest of his life, had he let himself feel such emotion for another human being.

He had told himself over the years, for decades now, that love was something he didn't need to feel, that it would only hold him back from becoming the person he was intended to be.

But he hadn't counted on the impact that Will Graham would make in his life. He hadn't thought that he would ever find someone like Will, someone who _needed_ him.

He would have never thought that he could fall in love.

He loved Will. He had already admitted as much to himself. And in his own way, he _needed_ Will just as much as Will needed him.

The word "love" still felt strange on his tongue. He had never believed that love was for him; it seemed like an emotion meant only for other people to experience.

Though that obviously wasn't so -- because here he was, in love with a man who he never would have expected to care for so deeply. He didn't doubt that this emotion he felt _was_ love. It had elements of what he had felt for his sister, yet it was far different.

Will meant more to him than he could possibly begin to put into words. This man was his heart and soul, the center of his universe. Will was .... well, in a word, he was _everything_.

Would he be able to give up his secret life for Will? Hannibal knew that it was something he'd have to do -- because if he didn't, he would certainly slip up sooner or later.

Unfortunately, it wasn't a secret that he could trust Will with. He knew that his lover had a finely developed sense of right and wrong -- and even though Will loved him, he had no doubt that he would find himself behind bars if Will were ever to discover that he was a serial killer.

His .... peculiar tastes were also somewhat problematic. It wasn't as though he could tell Will about that, either. The other man would most _definitely_ not approve of his palate.

Will wouldn't really approve of anything in his secret life, so, of course, it had to be kept secret. He might even have to stop it entirely, if he expected his relationship with Will to continue.

Of course he wanted that. He couldn't face life without Will.

That was something he didn't want to think about. His hands shook when he thought of it; the very idea of not having Will in his life wasn't even to be contemplated.

Will had become the center of his existence, and he didn't regret that, not one bit. If he absolutely _had_ to make a choice, he would choose Will without hesitation.

It wasn't a choice, really, Hannibal told himself as he leaned back in his desk chair. It was a natural progression, from their unpromising beginnings as what he had thought would be no more than a fling, to the point there were at now, where they had become indispensable to each other.

He was sure that Will felt the same way about him -- that life without the two of them being together would be a mere existence, not a life worth living at all.

Hannibal couldn't help but smile as he looked back over the relationship he and Will shared, remembering how it had come to be. He wouldn't have thought they would still be so close.

He had never expected to fall in love.

But it had happened, and now that it had, he was going to embrace that love with everything he was. He would never deny it, and never push it away.

From beginnings that had seemed somewhat unpromising, they had built a relationship that meant the world to both of them. And though he hadn't really told Will exactly how he felt, he knew that the emotions he'd held so close were real, and that he needed to express them.

When Will came here tonight, he would tell his boyfriend just how he felt. He would set Will's mind at rest for good, and open his heart to all that Will felt in return.

It would feel good to finally say those words.


	28. An Ocean of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The words that Will has been waiting to hear from Hannibal are like a bright light shining through the darkness that has always seemed to surround him.

Will looked across the dinner table at Hannibal, quirking an eyebrow.

"You've been awfully quiet tonight, Hannibal," he murmured, wondering why his boyfriend wasn't talking much. Usually, Hannibal was the one to initiate conversation.

But tonight, the other man seemed lost in thought -- and unless Will missed his guess, Hannibal actually seemed a bit nervous. He had no idea why that should be.

Was there something that Hannibal wanted to tell him? He could feel his stomach muscles tighten with anxiety; the only thing he could think of that Hannibal might want to say was that they couldn't go on like this, that their relationship was over and that they were better off just being friends.

Those weren't the words that Will wanted to hear. He was sure that if Hannibal said them, a part of him would crumble into dust and die -- the part of him that wanted to trust again.

Hannibal was the first person he'd felt that he could trust in a very long time. The first person that he had ever given himself to, and the only one he trusted with his heart.

He couldn't bear the thought of that trust being turned away.

He couldn't bear the thought of losing Hannibal. Not being with this man would leave a hole in his heart, in his life, one that he would never be able to fill again.

Will's breath caught in his throat; he could almost feel tears burning behind his eyes. No, he wasn't going to cry; after all, he didn't yet know what Hannibal wanted to say to him. Maybe he was looking on the dark side for no reason, and he had nothing to be afraid of. Maybe he was just being paranoid.

All he could do was sit here and wait patiently, let Hannibal gather his thoughts and put them into words. And hope that whatever he lover said would be something that he wanted to hear.

His gaze met Hannibal's, his blue eyes wide in anticipation.

"I have been thinking of how to say something to you," Hannibal replied, his voice very soft. "I am not quite sure how to put this so that it will sound .... right."

"Just say it," Will told him, feeling as though his heart had just leapt into his throat. "Whatever it is, just get it out in the open, Hannibal. I knew that you had something on your mind, and I need to know what it is. Even if it's something bad, I'd rather know and be able to deal with it."

Hannibal laughed softly, shaking his head. "I hope that this is nothing bad, Will," he said, a smile on his lips. "Quite the contrary. I hope it is something that you will want to hear."

"Whatever it is, it sounds like you've been thinking about it for a while," Will said, feeling cautiously optimistic. It didn't sound as though Hannibal intended to break up with him.

"I have," the other man stated, his voice succinct. "What I want to say is this, Will." He leaned forward, gazing into Will's eyes, clasping his hands on the table in front of him. "I don't know of any other way to say it, other than to be direct and honest. I am in love with you, Will." He paused, then said it again. "I love you."

Will's eyes widened even more, the shock of Hannibal's words running through him. He knew that his jaw had dropped, and he briefly, inanely, wondered how that made him look.

Of all the things he'd expected to hear, this wasn't one of them.

These words were all that he'd needed to hear, all that he'd hoped Hannibal would say, and they still felt unreal to him. It was taking a while for their meaning to sink in.

Hannibal _loved_ him. Hannibal actually returned his feelings. He hadn't thought that would be possible; he had thought that their involvement wouldn't last, that Hannibal would find someone far more interesting -- not to mention more socially acceptable -- than he was.

But these words proved otherwise. Knowing that Hannibal loved him was something that he could hold on to, a feeling that he could keep close to his heart.

It was a brief flicker of light amidst an ocean of darkness.

That light would keep growing as he moved towards it, the brief flicker becoming a beacon of hope. He would keep reaching out for it until he held it within his grasp.

"And you, Will? How do you feel about me?" Hannibal asked, his voice still quiet, but increasing in intensity. Hie eyes seem to bore into Will's, a relentless gaze that he couldn't look away from.

Will swallowed hard, then found himself answering almost before he could formulate the words in his mind. "I love you, Hannibal," he whispered, then said it again, his voice gathering strength. 'I love you. I've loved you for a long time, I just didn't know how to say it before -- or even if I should."

The light that suffused Hannibal's face as his smile grew almost seemed blinding. Will didn't think that he'd ever seen his lover look so incredibly happy.

"Oh, you should have said it, Will," he murmured, never taking his gaze from Will's face. "You definitely should have. And I'm so very glad you did. More than I can say."

With that, he reached across the table, taking Will's hand in his own.

Just one touch of his lover's hand, and the darkness seemed to melt away. There was nothing but a bright, blinding light -- the light of happiness, Will told himself.

All of his doubts fell away; it was as though a wall that had been standing between them had finally crumbled to the ground, and they would never have to deal with it again. They each loved, and were loved. The knowledge washed over them both, rendering them silent.

No longer was the hope of Hannibal's love only a brief flicker in the ocean of darkness that surrounded him. That darkness was gone forever; the only thing that remained was the light and the love.

Will hoped that love would be there forever, and never fade back into that darkness.


End file.
